Brutal Love
by St. Minority
Summary: Vash & Wolfwood have faced many trials in their adventures together but the hardest may be with each other. Will Vash's vicious past come to break them apart? The showdown with Knives is inevitable. When it comes down to it, will Vash be able to take out one of the few people he ever trusted? V/W, V/K, V/L Warnings: rape, incest, m/m, violence/torture, language
1. The Issue of Trust

**Title:** Brutal Love  
><strong>Rating: <strong>R/NC-17  
><strong>PairingsCharacters:** Vash/Wolfwood, Vash/Knives, Meryl, Millie, Legato, etc.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own Trigun, its characters, etc. All belong to its respective owners - Nightow, etc.  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: m/m, rape, language, violence, incest  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The showdown with Knives is inevitable. When it comes down to it, will Vash be able to take out one of the few people he ever trusted? And how did Wolfwood slip under his radar?

**A/N: **Not a great summary, I apologize :) Title comes from Green Day's "Brutal Love" off the album "Tre." I think the song fits this fic well. Feedback is awesome, but not necessary; I just hope you enjoy it as much as I love writing it. :D

* * *

><p>Lightening lit up the room, prompting Vash to put his index fingers in his ears to dull the loud boom of thunder that was sure to follow shortly. It did, and he sighed tiredly. By his count, he'd been lying in bed for a good two hours with no luck of sleep.<p>

_Maybe Wolfwood is awake too._

His bare feet silently walked him to the next room over from his at the April City Inn. He knocked quietly, not really expecting a response, but was happy when one came.

"Who is it?" he heard through the sound of the muffled pouring rain outside.

"It's me."

A brief moment passed before his comrade opened the door. He gestured for Vash to come in, and the Humanoid Typhoon took the invite graciously.

"Can't sleep either?" Wolfwood asked as they went to sit down at the table. A bottle of Wild Turkey and two glasses were already there as if the priest had expected company.

Vash let out a small laugh, nervously rubbed the back of his head, and took a seat across from the other man. "Yeah, I guess so. I wasn't sure if you'd be awake or not. Sorry to bother you."

Wolfwood poured them both shots and handed one to Vash, who took it absentmindedly. "It's no bother. Better than being alone on a night like this, if you ask me."

"Yeah, it's really storming out there. Haven't seen something like it for awhile."

They each downed two shots before setting the glasses aside. For some reason, Vash could not seem to meet Nicholas' intense gaze. He stared at the floor, and although his outward composure was calm albeit a bit uneasy, he inwardly wondered what the hell he was feeling – why was his heart racing? It wasn't surprising that he had grown to consider Wolfwood a close friend and ally. In numerous circumstances, his life was preserved because of the priest fighting alongside him. It seemed a ridiculous notion to consider those feelings of immense camaraderie as anything but that. Yet for some time now, his heart had been attempting to sway him otherwise. There was something else there, some emotion he had buried a long time ago that was being drudged up to the surface, with Nicholas D. Wolfwood being the cause. Whatever it was, he'd never tell the other man; he didn't much care for feeling embarrassed and ashamed. He himself didn't even know for sure what it was to put a label on it.

So why _did_ this feel different from any other time he had been alone with the preacher? Something was off, yet he couldn't put his finger on it. Danger? No. He trusted this man even though he hardly knew a thing about him. A trap? Not a chance. The tolling weight of loneliness? Maybe. The desire to be in the comfort of someone else's arms during a raging storm? Very possible. A want to deepen and strengthen his friendship with this man? Definitely.

Sighing heavily, he put his elbow on the table and rested his head in his hand.

"What's on your mind, Mr. Vash the Stampede? Do you need a portable confessional?"

Vash smirked and at last locked his gaze with Wolfwood's. "Nah, I'm not one for telling secrets."

"You sure have a lot of them."

"I could say the same for you, Mr. Priest." He spoke the last two words with sarcasm.

Wolfwood chuckled. "What can I say? I had a previous life before becoming a man of the cloth."

"Care to share it with me?"

"I like to keep my secrets too." He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket hanging from the back of his chair for a cigarette, lit it, and took a long drag. "Yours seem to run deep," he said while exhaling upward.

"How could you tell?" Vash asked dully.

"Like I said before: your smile doesn't reach your eyes."

"You just don't know what to do to get me to really smile," he replied with a sheepish grin.

"Enlighten me."

"Maybe another time."

A clap of thunder rattled the window pane as the storm continued to rage outside. Nicholas noticed the other man shiver almost imperceptibly and wrap his arms around himself as if in a protective embrace. The shot glasses were filled once again, though Vash didn't drink his right away.

"I'll tell you one of mine if you tell me one of yours."

Vash looked at him, searching Wolfwood's expression to see if he was joking or serious. The latter seemed to be the case. "Alright." He let out a deep breath as he tried to think of something to share with this man that he had yet to share with anyone else. "I'm….I'm looking for my brother," he finally stated quietly. "He's my twin, actually. We were separated many years ago."

Images of him and Knives flashed in his head. Playing in the green grass without a care in the world. Flames and red shooting stars. Cold, heartless blue eyes staring at him before a clenched fist slammed in to the side of his face. A possessive embrace, fingers trailing down his back. Hands roaming over his bare torso before gripping his hips. Moans, whimpers, whispered words. Tears filling his eyes as he was forced face-down in the sand, crying out as his body was intruded upon by his brother.

Vash jumped and gasped at the feeling of something on his cheek. It was Nicholas' thumb, wiping away the wet tracks left in the wake of a few tears.

"Must be pretty painful to be without him," Nicholas spoke gently. The hurt in his comrade's green eyes contradicted everything he had known. What he'd really wanted to ask was what the hell was wrong with him and how could he seem to still have feelings for a brother as destructive and callous as Knives?

"Sorry," Vash apologized, embarrassed. "Didn't mean to drift off like that."

"It's fine. You two must've been close."

"We were….for a time…." There was a brief moment of silence, during which Vash threw back his shot. Finally, he prompted, "And you?"

"I was trained at an early age to be an assassin. It was the only life I knew until I decided no more. I made it my duty to help kids in need. It's why I started the orphanage and took on the duties of the cross. It's also why I see things quite differently from you." The quizzical look on Vash's face made him continue. "You believe in never killing. You strive to never take another life. Maybe you were taught that way. For me, I was taught to kill at any cost. Now, I just do it if a situation calls for it."

"Maybe someday that'll change."

Wolfwood laughed. "Well, if it does, I'll let you know."

Lightening flickered, thunder following several seconds after.

"Guess I should go back to my room, try and get some sleep," Vash mumbled.

"Up to you. You can stay the night if you want."

Wolfwood's eyes conveyed complete sincerity and even what appeared to Vash to be an invitation. Not since his brother had been by his side had he slept quite so near another person. Or _with_ another person.

"Come on, Vash. You know as well as I do how lonely a life like this can be. And for all the womanizing you do, I doubt you've ever taken a lady up on an offer."

"Don't be so sure," Vash retorted, annoyed at how smug the priest was. It surprised him, though, how easily this man always seemed to be able to read him.

Before he knew what was happening, he was being hoisted to his feet and backed up against the nearest wall. There was fear, excitement, and pleading all wrapped together showing in his bright eyes. Wolfwood's gray-blue ones were clouded with lust and a saddening sense of aloneness. When a hand went beneath his shirt, Vash half-heartedly pushed it away.

"Don't," he whispered.

"Vash-"

"You won't want to see."

"See what?"

"Just….stop."

Accepting that the man's skin was off limits – for now – Nicholas moved his hand down and grinned wickedly at feeling what he had hoped for. A low groan escaped Vash's parted mouth as the priest rubbed against his hard member.

"Nicholas….stop," Vash weakly protested.

"How long's it been?"

"That's none of your business."

"That's what I thought. Just give in. Quit denying what's only natural."

"You're drunk."

"Nowhere close."

Vash closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He inhaled sharply from the pleasurable tingles shooting throughout his anatomy, at the sensation of hungry lips kissing his neck.

"Please….stop…."

Again, Wolfwood tried to touch Vash's bare flesh. This time, the Humanoid Typhoon pushed him away and headed for the door.

"We both need some sleep," the blonde offered lamely.

He didn't make it far before he was being spun around and warm lips were pressed against his. For several seconds, he was frozen, stiff against the preacher's close body and eyes wide as he was kissed. He hadn't had contact like this since Knives. Hadn't felt one hand on his back, bringing him as near as possible to another person, and the other on his round backside since Knives.

Vash snapped out of his memories, shut his eyes, and surrendered. Their mouths worked feverishly with one another's as they lost themselves to kissing each other. He had underestimated just how much he longed to be touched again. And Wolfwood's touch was exhilarating.

The top button of his shirt was undone, and he pulled away to keep Nicholas from doing any more. The priest gazed at him impatiently, but there was real confusion and concern as well.

"How bad could it be?" he asked.

"Bad. It's….not something I like other people to see."

"That why you don't take women home?"

Vash's green eyes flickered with hurt, making Nicholas regret the jab at the other male's pride. With great hesitation, the blonde began to unbutton his shirt. He slipped it off, letting it fall to the floor, and swallowed the nervous knot in his throat. He observed Nicholas' reaction, watched the priest survey his tremendously marred flesh. It was difficult to judge just how the other man was taking the sight; for the most part, he seemed rather unphased, more surprised than anything.

At last, Wolfwood purred, "I don't mind," and guided the outlaw to lie down on the bed. Everything was happening so fast, yet it felt as if time had slowed whenever they touched. While their lips ravished one another's, Vash shakily undid the buttons on Nicholas' shirt and removed it. He let out a whimper as the preacher moved to suck on his neck and felt the tie being undone on his pants. Was this really happening? Was he really going to _let _it happen? Surely if Knives were here, he'd be appalled. He'd snarl in disgust at his brother fornicating with a human. To him, humans didn't even deserve to touch them.

In this moment, Vash had never known such ecstasy.

He raised his hips for Wolfwood to remove his last article of clothing. Slight worry overtook him as the dark-haired man ceased all of his actions and merely devoured the naked sight below him with his eyes. It would've been a lie to say Wolfwood was not completely attracted to Vash the Stampede. Even though scars adorned the gunman's legs as well – and he would later discover the man's back too, making his skin almost like a patch-work quilt – Wolfwood found him unbelievably appetizing. He wanted to know every inch. He had a fierce urge to claim this man tonight.

"Stay here," he said, getting up to go rummage around in his dufflebag.

"Everything okay? Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all. Just need something….ah! Here it is." He returned to the bed, setting a little bottle of lubricant on the nightstand nearby. "Never know when I'll need it for a beautiful lady, or in tonight's case, a beautiful man." He grinned at seeing the Humanoid Typhoon blush and smile innocently.

"Hope I don't disappoint."

"You never do."

Wolfwood forged a trail of kisses from Vash's forehead down to his nipple. The blonde gasped and squirmed as Nicholas circled his tongue around it. He closed his eyes, reveling in the intense pleasure coursing through him. Teeth gently bit and lips sucked on it while a hand slid down his stomach to tease his erect cock.

"Nicholas," he breathed, "I-"

He was hushed by his comrade's mouth on his. Tentative arms wrapped themselves around the person above him. His heart was racing; he wondered if his friend could hear it, the way it thudded so violently in his chest. Was Wolfwood this nervous? It didn't seem to be the case. The preacher acted as if this was nothing new, and it was that notion that made Vash suddenly envy him. The only being he had shared such intimacy with was his own dominating brother; even then, the majority of the time it had been against his will.

After a number of minutes, Wolfwood pulled back. Vash watched through half-opened eyes as the other male stripped himself and wet his erection with the lube. The gunman was trembling, causing Wolfwood to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder and whisper, "Relax."

Vash nodded. "Right. Relax."

He parted his legs, allowing the priest to settle between them, and let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

"Have you done this before?" Nicholas asked.

"What? Me? Well…." He noticed the preacher's raised eyebrow and an expression that told him his friend read him like a book. "Yes. It's been awhile though."

"I'll try to take it slow."

Vash brought his knees as close to his chest as he could and never let his gaze stray from Woolfwood. The last time he had been in this position, silent tears had dripped from his bruised and swollen eyes while he tried to look at anything other than the possessive, pitiless expression on his brother's face.

"_You make me do this," Knives spat as he roughly thrust in and out of his twin. Vash let out a feeble groan as he was forcefully struck by Knives' fist. "Look at me! It's your fault!"_

_Once the assault was over, Vash laid where he was, staring emptily at the blue sky above him. He didn't bother putting on his clothes; the wind felt good against his sweat-sheen skin. Knives stood nearby with his back to him._

"_When will you learn? It's not like I _enjoy_ hurting you, brother. I'd say you're no better than them, but you _are,_" Knives stated coldly. "Why don't you see it? We can wipe them out, rule this planet."_

_He turned around to find Vash had not moved. He sighed, went to kneel beside the prone form, and brushed his fingers through his twin's spiked hair before trailing them down to caress Vash's cheek._

"_I'm sorry," Knives said with great affection. "Forgive me. I love you. You know that."_

_Vash sat up and took the offered embrace. They held each other securely._

"_We're all we need," Knives whispered in his ear. "You and me. Forever."_

Vash shut his eyes tightly, tensed, and emitted a noise of pain as he felt Wolfwood enter his body. The priest only went until the head of his cock was inside the other man. He'd wait as long as it took for Vash to loosen up before going any farther and would take it as slow as need be.

It was a few minutes when the outlaw finally breathed, "Okay."

What seemed like an hour to Wolfwood went by before he was completely inside Vash the Stampede. He rocked forward slightly, eliciting a tremulous moan from the blonde. With vocals like that, Nicholas knew it wouldn't take long for him to orgasm. The sound of Vash's whimpers and murmurs of pleasure drove him wild with lust.

Vash wrapped his arms around Nicholas' neck, grabbing a handful of the preacher's hair as his body moved with every thrust the preacher made. It was nothing like he had ever experienced. Even the most tenderest of moments with Knives didn't seem to compare with what it felt like to be claimed by Nicholas. There was pain, but ecstasy made him quiver from the strokes the priest's fingers performed on his cock.

Lightening lit up the room and the two horizontal forms moving in unison on the bed. Their breathing became ragged and heavy, their skin hot against one another. Nicholas' propulsions grew more powerful as he neared his peak. He pounded in to Vash's body vigorously and began to moan with the gunman. He had expected it to be good; he hadn't prepared for it being incredible.

Warm fluid splashed on to Wolfwood's hand as Vash climaxed. He followed soon after, stopping abruptly and spilling himself deep inside the other man. Vash whimpered as he felt his comrade's member twitch within him, held on tightly to the priest, and wrapped his legs around him. For the first time in a long time, he felt safe; he didn't want to let go.

Thunder clapped outside, and the two men simply stared at one another for a small while. They were panting, bodies spent and tired, but utterly sated. Vash swallowed hard before he pulled Wolfwood's face down and kissed him tenderly. Caressing the outlaw's cheek, Wolfwood at last drew back, untangled himself from Vash's hold, and laid down beside him.

A lengthy moment passed as they rested in silence, listening to each other's breathing and the rain continuing to pour. Once their hearts had slowed, Wolfwood shifted to grab something from under the bed. Vash gazed at the ceiling, still recovering slightly from the exertion. His eyes widened slightly at the undeniable feel of a cold gun barrel against his temple.

"Don't move," Wolfwood ordered quietly.

"Wh-….What are you doing?"

"I've been hired to kill you….by your brother."

Vash let out an audible noise of surprise. "Knives….How….Why?" he asked with evident hurt present in his voice.

"His orders. He wants you terminated."

"I….I trusted you…."

Wolfwood closed his eyes briefly, hating how horrible he felt and how much pain he was obviously causing the man who he considered a friend.

Before he had time to react, Vash was sitting up and glaring at him angrily. His trembling voice gave away the betrayal and sadness hiding behind the intense green eyes.

"You planned this," he spoke softly. He didn't appear to care that Nicholas was up now too and had cocked the gun, still pointing at his head.

"It was a way I knew you wouldn't have your weapon anywhere near you, a way I'd know you'd be defenseless."

"So you go ahead and use me before you kill me?"

"I didn't plan for it to go as far as it did."

"Of course you didn't," Vash replied icily.

Not showing any concern to the possibility of Nicholas ending his life, Vash got up from the bed and put on his clothes.

"If you're going to do it, then do it," he said curtly, his back to Nicholas the whole time.

"Vash-"

"Just do it!"

Nicholas' aim followed the blonde as Vash hurried to the door. The entrance was slammed shut behind him, and with a heavy sigh, Nicholas lowered the gun.

"Damn it," he muttered.

Furious and heart-wrenching tears poured down Vash's flushed cheeks as he returned to his room. Through his blurred vision, he found and packed his belongings. He changed out of his clothes in to his regular gear and coat.

The night was cold, making his breath show whenever he exhaled. The rain fell from the sky with the intensity of a shower on full blast.

Like a ghost, he disappeared in to the pitch black, headed for the empty desert.

* * *

><p>At the sight of the first sun's rays, Wolfwood dragged himself to the room next to his. He had been awake all night, regretting ever trying to do what he was contracted for. Whether he liked to admit it or not, he had grown to have some strong feelings for Vash the Stampede. They defended one another. Worked like a well-oiled machine when in combat, as if they had been doing it for years. The two of them had spent numerous days and nights with no one but themselves to keep the other company, to keep each other alive. They had their arguments, but many laughs as well, just like old friends.<p>

When it came down to it, Vash was his only friend, the only person he trusted without question. And he broke whatever trust Vash had placed in him the moment he aimed the gun at him.

Wolfwood sighed, raised his hand to the door, and knocked lightly.

"Vash, it's me. We need to talk." He cringed inwardly at how cliché he sounded.

No reply.

"Come on, Spikey. Open up."

Silence.

He tried the doorknob to see if it was unlocked and was taken aback when he found it to be the case.

"I'm coming in," he announced before entering the room.

There was no one there. No duffle bag. No red coat hanging nearby. Nothing.

_Don't tell me you left during that storm last night, _he thought to himself. _You have a death wish?_

"Shit," he muttered under his breath.

There were three towns near the one he was at now, but they were each at least seventy iles away. Not only did he not know which the Humanoid Typhoon picked to travel to, he had a sickening feeling at the image of the blonde lying in the sand having collapsed from exhaustion and dehydration while the buzzards encircled him, waiting for the rest of his life to drain out.

How was he supposed to find that idiot in the middle of the open desert?

"I'm sorry, Vash," he whispered remorsefully.

* * *

><p>In the protective shade of a small cave, puffy green eyes stared vacantly out at the blowing sand. His body had ceased its violent shivering, and the pained tears that had flowed down his face were done too. The shelter wasn't very big; it allowed him to extend his bent legs only so far, though for the most part, he had been curled up in to a ball to keep warm. And to comfort himself.<p>

By his estimate, he had traveled three iles during the night before his body didn't seem to want to move anymore. He was beyond tired, though sleep had refused to overtake him.

He was quite familiar with betrayal. And people pointed their weapons at him on a regular basis. But Wolfwood….That was the one person he _didn't _expect either of those to come from. Wolfwood was the only person he had let get so close to him since….

"_We're all we need. You and me. Forever."_

Vash closed his eyes tightly as he began to cry quietly. Knives had been the most important person in his life; in a way, he had felt Wolfwood had filled that position as of late. Now, both worked against him and wanted him dead.

He exhaled a shaky breath before he crawled out from the shelter. The suns were high and hot. Nothing but sand stretched in all directions around him.

Heaving his duffle bag on to his shoulder, he set off towards the west, not knowing how far until the next town; at the moment, he simply didn't care.

* * *

><p>Despite it being a pointless endeavor in his mind, Wolfwood rode around in the open desert for several hours before calling it quits. If only he knew which direction Vash was headed, it'd be more possible for him to catch up to the Humanoid Typhoon. The next day he searched north for the most part, only venturing slightly to the west.<p>

_Something in my gut tells me Johnson City._

He downed the rest of his beer, settling on leaving in the morning.

* * *

><p>A fire burned steadily, wood crackling and hissing, keeping the lone person almost comfortably warm in the middle of nowhere. Vash never understood how it could be so sweltering hot during the day and then so bone-chilling cold at night.<p>

He sat with his legs held to his chest, the flames dancing in the frames of his yellow glasses.

"_Don't move," Wolfwood ordered quietly._

"_Wh-….What are you doing?"_

"_I've been hired to kill you….by your brother."_

In that moment, everything he had known seemed to dissipate. He truly was wholly alone in this world. Perhaps he _had _become too trusting of people. Just another reason for Knives to scorn him and the human race itself. His brother had warned him. The idealism and optimism Knives had so despised remained, however, and now he wondered if maybe his twin had been right to distrust everyone but the two of them.

He trembled a little at remembering the feel of Nicholas' hands on him. The way the priest kissed him, moved inside of him. In that shared intimacy, he forgot everything: the inevitable war with Knives, the emotional burdens he carried, the memories and pain from which his scars had come from. Nothing had mattered the instant he stripped his clothes and gave himself up to the other man. He had always felt safe – well, as safe as one could feel with a merciless mass-murderer after him – when Nicholas was with him. Lying on his back, hugging his friend to his naked body, he had felt….free. Salvation. Love.

Dim embers flew as he tossed a short log on to the burning pile.

"Nicholas," he mumbled softly.

* * *

><p>Five days had passed since Vash had departed without him. Nicholas scanned the area around him as he rode his bike through the barren wilderness towards Johnson City. He hoped to see any sign of the gunman, to see the man's long red coat fluttering in the wind.<p>

Nothing.

It was late afternoon by his estimate. He leaned back against his motorcycle, having stopped for a break to stretch and to smoke.

"Idiot," he muttered, frustrated. He didn't like being worried over someone he really knew nothing about, though still cared so much for.

He stomped on what was left of his cigarette when he was finished and began to ride again. Was there a point in continuing to search? What were the odds he would even come across him?

Flying through the desert at fifty iles an hour, something suddenly caught his eye thirty iles from where he had just stopped. Off toward the left in the distance. Red flapped in the breeze. Vultures were circling in the sky.

"It can't be."

Hurriedly, he steered towards the flowing fabric. Sprawled out face-down was Vash the Stampede.

"Vash!"

Wolfwood knelt beside him, rolled him over, and brushed the sand off the blonde's face. Vash was unconscious, though still alive, prompting the preacher to shake him and call his name.

"Come on, Spikey."

At last, Vash's eyes opened halfway. Everything was blurred together, yet he could make out a dark-haired figure hovering above him. There was a voice as well; it echoed in his ears as if the person was far away. Cool liquid splashed on to his forehead. Suddenly he felt something pressed against his lips. He opened his mouth and made a sound of delight the instant water flooded inside. He lifted a quivering hand to hold the bottle to him as he drank greedily.

"Okay, that's good. Don't want to have too much at once," Nicholas stated after a handful of seconds and pulled the canteen away. Vash audibly protested feebly and reached for it again, but Nicholas tossed it towards his bike.

"Alright, Spikey, let's get you out of here."

He stood up, swooped Vash in to his arms, and carried him to the motorcycle. He set him down gently in the side car, loaded the blonde's duffle bag behind his cross, and started the engine.

The words all seemed to meld together, but Vash could at least discern his name from the person who had discovered him. At the time being, he had no energy to put up any sort of fight. Did he really need to? Whoever it was seemed to want to help him. He had no choice but to place his trust in this man.

Hearing his name one more time, Vash's head fell back as he succumbed to unconsciousness once again.


	2. Regrets

"Innkeep! You have a room free?"

The clerk behind the counter looked from Wolfwood's frantic face to the unresponsive blonde man slung over the priest's shoulder. He lifted a disapproving eyebrow, prompting Wolfwood to growl in frustration and yell, "It's not like that! Do you have a room or not?"

The innkeeper fetched a pair of keys from the wall behind him and tossed them at the preacher. "Number twelve."

"Thanks. I'll be back to pay."

Nicholas hauled what people seemed to think was his drunken whore, judging by the expressions on their faces as he passed, up the stairs and to the room. Quickly, he took Vash to the bathroom, set him down on the floor, and turned on the shower.

"Let's get you out of this, Spikey," he muttered while undoing the buttons on the Humanoid Typhoon's crimson coat.

Vash remained wholly unresponsive as Nicholas removed the article of clothing. What the coat had hid under it made Wolfwood look at the man's body dumbfounded.

"Are you serious?"

He sighed, taking in all the buckles and straps that adorned the leather armor suit. Deciding it wasn't worth the time, he lifted Vash in to the tub and laid him in it.

"Hopefully that'll cool you off and wake you up."

* * *

><p>The sound of water falling reached him first, followed by the cold sensation of it hitting his skin. When had it started to rain? The last thing he really remembered was the hot suns beating on his neck.<p>

Happily, he let the droplets fall in to his parched mouth. He drank for a minute or so before his eyes finally opened. Instantly, he was confused.

"Huh? Where am I?"

With a groan, he got himself to his feet and turned the water off. From the other room, he heard clinking of dishes. The realization he was not alone made him instinctively reach for his gun, and slight panic shot through him at the absence of it from his hip.

"Shit," he whispered.

He took a deep breath, stepped out of the tub, and silently stalked toward the doorway. His back was pressed against the wall, his ears straining to hear anything else and receiving nothing. Cautiously, he peered around the corner, spotted his company, and immediately flattened himself against the wall again. His brow furrowed in anger, eyes alight with surprise and vexation.

_What the hell is _he _doing here?! How did he find me?!_

"You might as well join me; I know you're there," he heard the priest announce.

Vash gritted his teeth and entered the room. He sat down stiffly at the table across from Nicholas, never letting his gaze stray from the gray-blue ones watching him in turn. A pitcher of water, a couple bottles of alcohol, two glasses, two bowls, a platter of salmon sandwiches, and a pot of Tomas soup adorned the table top.

"Figured you'd be hungry," Nicholas stated casually.

The way he spoke, so calmly and easily, it was as if he had never put a gun to his friend's head; it made Vash's skin crawl. Wolfwood had some damn nerve.

Sighing as if exasperated, the preacher shrugged and took a quarter of a full sandwich. "Suit yourself."

"Why are you here?" Vash questioned, his voice dripping with a tinge of venom.

"Shouldn't you be saying, 'Thank you for saving my life?' That would be more appropriate."

"Don't patronize me, Wolfwood. There wouldn't have been a life to save if you had pulled the damn trigger like you were hired to do."

There was no answer. Nicholas merely continued eating.

"What stopped you?"

"Call it 'Divine Intervention' if you want to give it a name."

"You couldn't do it. Why?"

Nicholas exhaled another breath, annoyed. "Would you shut up and eat? You're dehydrated and starved."

Vash glared at him for a brief moment before he gave in and poured himself a bowl of soup. They ate in silence, the blonde continuing to regard Wolfwood closely. He sensed his firearm was on the desk in the corner; it'd be so easy with his abilities to retrieve it and lodge a bullet in the preacher's shoulder with Wolfwood having no damn clue what hit him. Vash didn't believe in killing, but he certainly felt justified to put this traitor in a sling for a bit. In the pit of his heart, however, he knew he couldn't bring himself to purposely hurt Wolfwood; he still had deep-rooted feelings for the other man.

When they finished, they stared at one another for a long period. Nicholas' expression remained stoic, though his stomach churned with guilt from the presence of hurt and dull rage burning in the piercing jade eyes. There was no getting out of this one. Without words, Vash was demanding answers, and he knew he was going to have to eventually give them.

"Well?" he ultimately offered lamely.

"How could you?" The tone in the blonde's voice had morphed in to one that revealed immense bewilderment and heartache.

"I'm a mercenary for hire, I suppose. If the price is right."

"And his was?"

Nicholas removed a cigarette from his breast pocket and lit it. "I had to do what I thought was best. And what was best was protecting those kids. What would you have done?"

For the first time since sitting down, Vash glanced away and said nothing.

"I'm not going to apologize to you, Vash. We both know it won't do anything. I'm not going to pretend I shouldn't have done it either. I do regret it, though."

"How can I trust anything you say?"

The priest took a long drag from the cigarette. He exhaled fully before responding with curt honesty, "You can't. I understand that. I'm not going to beg for forgiveness. I know it takes more than that to earn back someone's trust."

"Wolfwood…." His eyes once again met the preacher's. "Why didn't you pull the trigger?"

"Change of heart, I guess. Whether I like to admit it, you've grown on me." Nicholas felt a weight leave him when he saw the blonde's lips quirk upward in a gentle smile. "Call it a hunch, but…." He took one last hit from his cigarette before extinguishing it in the ashtray. "Something tells me you're this planet's only hope, Vash the Stampede."

Vash gave a skeptical laugh. "Your God tell you that?"

"Well, I _am_ one of his humble servants."

The air was heavy with grave seriousness before Vash broke the pause after several minutes.

"I don't know if I can do it, Nicholas," he admitted softly, almost shamefully. He closed his eyes, holding the tears that threatened to fall as he thought of Rem's last words.

"_Take care of Knives!"_

"He's become stronger than me. I can feel it; I can feel his power."

"Don't sell yourself too short, needle-noggin."

"You don't understand."

"I understand that you're scared. It's perfectly natural. What it comes down to is are you going to accept that and fight like hell regardless?"

"I….I can't let her down. I can't let him destroy everything she represented….everything she taught us…."

"Then I think your decision is made."

Wolfwood filled their empty water glasses a quarter of the way full with whiskey. He held his up towards Vash, who took the offer and touched his cup against it.

_I'll take care of him, Rem, _he thought determinedly. _I promised. I'll do whatever it takes._

* * *

><p>"Where you sleeping?"<p>

"The bed."

"That's funny, cause I'm pretty sure that's where _I'm_ sleeping."

"Not only did I pay for the room, I _saved your life_. I think I'll be taking it."

The two men stared at each other stubbornly before they both suddenly bolted for the bed. Wolfwood lunged, tackled the blonde to the ground, and then rapidly continued towards the piece of furniture in question.

"Damn it, Spikey! Just accept it and sleep on the damn floor!"

Vash grabbed the priest's ankle, stopping Wolfwood abruptly. "I don't think so!"

They proceeded to wrestle and fend one another off as they made their way to the opposite side of the room where the bed was.

"It's mine!" Vash exclaimed finally, reaching a hand out to grasp the blanket on top.

Despite Wolfwood trying to pull him back to the ground, he wiggled out of the preacher's grasp and climbed atop the mattress. With a smug grin, he closed his eyes, put his hands behind his head, and stretched out.

"Ah, so comfy. You'll really be missing out, Wolfy."

"Oh shut it, you bastard."

"Hey! Come on!" He opened one eye to take in the annoyed expression on the other man's visage. "I'm the one who's sick! I almost died, remember?!"

"Yeah, I should've just left you there."

"Now that's not very church-man like."

Nicholas was grateful to find a few extra blankets and a pillow in the wardrobe, which he used to make as good a bed as any on the floor. While he was busy with that, Vash removed his leather outfit and changed in to a pair of loose pants and a shirt. He hadn't noticed the dark haired man stealing glances at his unclothed body.

Once Nicholas was done, he turned off the light and changed in to a new set of clothes as well.

"Sure hope you enjoy that," he said grumpily, covering himself with a sheet.

"Mmm….I will. Good night, Wolfy."

"I hate when you call me that." In all honesty, he secretly loved that Vash had given him a nickname….a pet name, almost.

"You call me 'Spikey' and 'needle-noggin.' I think it's only fair you get something too."

"You _are _a needle-noggin. Now go to sleep. You need it."

Not until Vash was peacefully asleep did Wolfwood close his eyes and join him in slumber.

* * *

><p>"AHHH! No more! Somebody help! HELP!"<p>

Nicholas bolted upright from his place on the floor, stumbled to his feet to fetch one of his handguns, and rushed to the window next to the bed. The sound of his friend's cries for aid sent his heart pounding in to a frenzy.

_What could that walking disaster have gotten himself in to already?!_

He threw open the window, wildly pointing his gun from one direction to the other as he tried to spot where the commotion was coming from.

In the middle of the town square, there was Vash: neighborhood kids piled atop him as they enthusiastically roughhoused with the sixty-billion-double-dollar man.

"Jeeze, Spikey. Thanks for waking me so rudely," Nicholas grumbled. He smiled, however. The famous outlaw had few things in this world to make him happy, and Nicholas thought it odd but cute how spending time and having fun with the local kids gave Vash such joy. Even if it was at the expense of the blonde's muscles and pride.

"Hey Wolfwood!"

Nicholas shook his head slightly to break from his thoughts.

"You wanna join us?!" Vash called to him. "Hey! Watch it down there!" he lightly scolded a couple of the gang due to one of them kicking just a little too close to a very sensitive body part.

"Nah, that's alright. It looks like you've got this under control."

"But….AHHHH! Wolfwood!"

The priest chuckled as the children continued their fighting and conquering of the infamous Vash the Stampede. Once they had decided they had caused sufficient amount of damage and their prisoner gladly waved the white flag, the kids cheered in victory. Vash laughed cheerfully and got to his feet. He gave each of them a few coins to get themselves ice-cream as a reward, and as Wolfwood stared at the gunman – witnessing such a pure and jovial smile – he felt a tinge of sympathy and sadness for him. This man would never have children of his own to spend time with, would never be a father. Wolfwood wondered if Vash would even have – or ever had – a person to share his life with. It was a rough life and one that would either end abruptly at the hands of his twin brother or proceed to be a long one as it had already been. He had an enormous amount of love to give, Wolfwood knew, but was there anyone who wanted it and was willing to reciprocate?

"Oh hey! It's the insurance girls!" Vash exclaimed gleefully.

"Hi Mr. Vash!" Millie greeted warmly as her and her co-worker rushed towards the outlaw.

"Is everything alright?!" Meryl asked frenziedly. "We heard you yelling from three blocks over and came as quickly as we could. What happened?"

"Nothing serious," Vash chuckled. "Just having some fun. What are you two doing here?"

"We heard rumors you might be in this city, so of course we had to come see for ourselves; it _is _our job."

"Aw jeeze, and here I thought this was a fortuitous reunion."

"That's dependable Meryl for you!" Millie interjected. "Always doing her job!"

Meryl folded her arms over her chest and shook her head. "As long as you're still wandering this planet, Vash the Stampede, there's always going to be _some _sort of damage wherever you turn up at. I'm just glad to see we're not too late and prevent you from causing any trouble."

"Me?! I don't know what you're talking about!" Vash protested with feigned offense. "I was kinda hoping you two were done following me around. I think you're the ones trouble follows."

"Are you serious?!" Meryl shouted furiously. "There's a reason there's sixty-billion-double-dollars on your head and why you're known as the Humanoid Typhoon!"

Millie gave a small laugh, embarrassed. "Don't mind her, Mr. Vash. She's just always so stressed."

"I can tell. Sheesh. Come on! Let me buy you both some lunch!"

"Really?! You mean it?!" Millie asked delightedly, clapping her hands together.

"Sure! Hey Wolfy! You want to come down for lunch with us?"

Nicholas rolled his eyes at the use of his new nickname. "Alright. Give me a minute."

As he got dressed, the preacher smirked. "That's typical Vash the Stampede for you. Always so damn chipper with everybody."

* * *

><p>Vash had a fit of the giggles, like a little schoolgirl, and Wolfwood was thankful the man was a fun and polite drunk rather than an angry one. The two of them had an arm slung across the other's shoulders as they stumbled and shuffled back to the inn. They had gone out for drinks with the insurance girls earlier in the night; it was now two in the morning.<p>

"Would you quiet down?" Nicholas said slightly annoyed, though actually found Vash's childish drunk side amusing.

After having to stop a couple of times on the stairs in order to catch their footing, they made it in to their room and sat down on the bed.

"I'm beginning to think you can't hold your liquor well, Spikey."

"What are you talking about?!" the blonde's words were slurred together. "I'm-I'm just fine. Haven't thrown up once. Pretty good if you ask me."

"Surprising, if you ask me." Wolfwood was about to move to the floor when a hand grasped his arm and stopped him.

"Why don't you sleep here with me? It'll be more comfortable."

Wolfwood blinked blankly; Vash smiled sweetly.

"Come on," Vash coaxed, lying down on his back and patted the space next to him.

Deciding it was not worth a protest, the priest stretched out beside him. The twin sized mattress barely accommodated the two bodies, prompting Wolfwood to observe, "Don't think this'll be much better than the floor, Spikey. I'm on the edge."

Not receiving a response, he looked over to find Vash soundly asleep. Nicholas sighed and shook his head.

"That didn't take long."

Lying on his side, the preacher silently observed the other man, studying every detail of the blonde's countenance. Only once had he seen Vash lose control and set free his remarkable power, had seen the giant wings protrude from the gunman's body; it had been then that he wondered if Vash the Stampede was a demon among the mortal world. Right now, however, as he gazed at the serene features of the other man, he reconsidered. This wasn't a beast from Hell; it was an angel. This bumbling, overly kind and trusting fool was an angel and the key to save them all.

Absentmindedly, he brushed his fingertips along Vash's cheek. Despite all the time he spent in the sun, the man's skin was exceptionally smooth and soft. Slowly, he glided his fingers downward and traced the silky lips of the prone figure. An involuntary moan came from Nicholas the instant he felt Vash's tongue flick against his creeping digits. He desperately wanted more. Boldly, he inserted his index finger into the man's mouth. He mildly probed the oral cavity, teased Vash's tongue, and grew immensely hard when the outlaw weakly sucked on the intruder. The sight and sensation drove Nicholas mad with desire. But there was no way he could do what he was now suddenly dying to do. After all, he _was _a priest.

Vash eventually stopped, mumbled something, and shifted to lie with his back to Wolfwood. The dark-haired man pressed himself against the outlaw's body, closed his eyes, and breathed in the blonde's scent. Musky and sweet all at once. He hesitated a brief moment before placing a kiss on the nape of the gunman's neck. His arm enveloped Vash as he continued kissing and gently suckling the pale skin. A shudder went through Vash's anatomy; Nicholas responded by tightening his embrace and pushing his erection against the blonde's round backside. It wasn't as if he was taking advantage; they were both fully clothed, after all. And in his sleep, Vash didn't seem to mind. In fact, he expelled a quiet noise of what Nicholas took as enjoyment, encouraging the preacher to reach under the red coat and inch his hand downward between the man's legs. Even though the leather suit Vash wore was skin-tight, Nicholas could feel the gunman's erection pushing against the restraining fabric.

"God forgive me," he whispered.

He licked Vash's earlobe as he started to knead his comrade's cock. A tense expression replaced the calm one Vash had had; his legs rubbed together and his breathing became heavier.

"Nnnnhhh…." he moaned softly.

Nicholas didn't know when he had begun bucking his hips against Vash; his fondling of the other man's hard member grew more intense as he became more aggressive with his thrusts. Sweat glistened on the outlaw's face, and Wolfwood felt kinky enough to lick the sheen of it forming on Vash's neck.

"Uuhhnnn….nnhhhnnn…."

The uncontrolled sounds coming from Vash's now parted lips made Wolfwood firmly grip the man's hip and roughly thrust against him as if he were actually pounding in to Vash's body.

It wasn't long before he climaxed, clutching Vash securely to him.

A lengthy period went by before Wolfwood rolled on to his back and stared at the ceiling through half-opened eyes. His comrade's breathing eventually returned to being deep and slow.

_What in the hell did I just do? _Nicholas thought guiltily. The probability was high that Vash would have no idea what had transpired when he woke in the morning, but it didn't ease the shame the priest now felt.

Vash uttered something in his dreamy state, though Nicholas couldn't discern it. A minute or so later, the blonde muttered again and this time, the preacher believed he caught what it was.

Knives.

The name prodded Wolfwood to sit up a little in order to see the other man's face. He was taken aback when Vash began to tremble and tears leaked from his now tightly closed eyes.

"Vash," he spoke soothingly, knowing the gunman probably wouldn't hear him in his sleep, though still thought it worth a try. "It's alright." He placed a hand on his comrade's shuddering shoulder. "It's alright."

When Nicholas finally fell asleep, Vash at last went still, cocooned affectionately in the priest's arms.


	3. Brought to Light

**A/N: **Just want to give a big shout out to my incredible beta, Shin ATproof. Thanks for the second pair of eyes and letting me bounce ideas off ya, bud! :D

Also want to give a huge thanks to my first two reviewers **BurningWhiteTwilight **and **Lady Geuna**! Much appreciation. It's nice to get some feedback, nice to know someone's enjoying reading it XD

* * *

><p>The sun warmed Nicholas' face, and he kept his eyes closed to keep the light out just a bit longer. He felt beside him, finding his bedmate was not there. He heard Vash's labored breaths before he rolled over to look at him. Dressed in a pair of gray pants and a baggy white tank-top halfway tucked in, the gunman was balanced on one hand (his bionic arm was currently laying on the table), perfectly perpendicular to the floor and with his back to Nicholas. Steadily, he did several pushups, making the priest marvel at just how strong the man was. He knew Vash had excellent physical stamina and could lift or carry a decent amount of weight, but witnessing the blonde's muscles at work in this moment, and with a single arm no less, Nicholas admitted even he had underestimated the Humanoid Typhoon's capabilities.<p>

After doing a set of ten, Vash fell backward and landed on his feet as easily as a cat would. Upon seeing the priest regarding him with interest, he laughed a little and smiled coyly.

"Oh, I didn't know I was being watched," he said, sounding somewhat self-conscious.

"Don't worry about it; I just woke up. How long have you been at it?"

"An hour?" He fetched a glass of water, sat down at the table, and drank rapidly. "How'd you sleep?" he asked once he finished.

"Not bad. I don't think we'll be doing that again anytime soon, though. Bed's not made for two."

"Heheh, I didn't really notice. Except my side kind of hurts. I got a bruise on my hip; did you hit me or something while you were dreaming?" His tone made it clear it was a joke, and Wolfwood wasn't about to correct him on just how close to the mark he was.

"I don't think so. You just must've slept on it wrong."

"Yeah, I guess."

The absence of Vash's metal arm was increasingly perking Wolfwood's curiosity. He had never seen the man without it before, and he had never really thought about bringing up the subject on how the gunman lost the real one until now. Had it been severed before all of the other scars and bolts were hammered in to his body? Who took it? Bounty hunters that got way out of control? He didn't even realize the words "What happened to your arm?" were out of his mouth until he saw the expression of minor surprise on Vash's countenance.

Vash instinctively moved his hand to rub what was left of his lost appendage and answered, "Knives. He cut it off a long time ago….Been serving as a constant reminder ever since."

"Reminder of what?"

"The different paths we chose."

"Tell me you took something of his." Wolfwood knew the answer was "no" because Vash just wasn't that way; he was an utter pacifist, and this was one of those instances where Wolfwood hated him for it. If a butchered limb wasn't enough to make Vash angry enough to break his own rule just once in order to make Knives pay for the damage, what _was _something that would push him over the edge?

"No. I kinda deserved it, honestly."

"The hell you mean you deserved it?!"

"I accidentally shot him in the shoulder."

"So he took your arm?!"

"Yeah, so we're kind of even, right?"

The earnest way Vash spoke those words made Wolfwood stare at him in disbelief. Vash had truly cared for his brother in spite of his twin hacking off his arm; he _still _immensely cared. If Wolfwood was honest with himself, he would've admitted that he was jealous of Knives; instead, he continued being cross. "You think that's even?!"

Vash sighed, defeated. "It was a long time ago. It doesn't matter now."

"Doesn't matter?! Spikey-"

Vash stood abruptly and headed toward the bathroom. "I'm gonna take a shower." As if flicking on a different personality switch, he added merrily, "So feel free to have breakfast without me!"

The door closed behind him and a number of seconds later, Nicholas heard the water turn on. If he could see the other man's memories, maybe he'd better understand. For the moment, however, the preacher found himself quite irritated with his comrade. A severed body part and the agony it had caused hadn't been enough to move Vash to vengeance. And Vash was the one destined to kill Millions Knives.

When it came to it, Nicholas doubted the outlaw would be able to even aim his gun at his twin, let alone murder him.

* * *

><p>The café was relatively crowded for mid-morning, though Nicholas was able to find a table up front in order to enjoy his coffee, toast, and fried eggs. He had planned on waiting for Vash, but the Humanoid Typhoon apparently liked to take lengthy showers, causing him to give up and have breakfast alone. That was until he suddenly heard a familiar and impossibly chipper voice address him.<p>

"Hey Mr. Priest!"

He glanced up from his food to find Millie approaching him. She had a glass of juice and a plate piled with four pancakes drenched in syrup. "Well hello," he replied warmly. "Care to join me?"

"Thank you so much! It's quite a coincidence that you're here too. Where's Mr. Vash?"

"Oh he's doing his own thing at the moment. What about your friend, Meryl?"

"She's sleeping off last night's drinks," she explained with a laugh.

Wolfwood chuckled.

"Bad hangover, huh?"

"Yeah, she's not much of a drinker. You seem to be functioning just fine for the amount you drank!"

"My body's used to it. Me and alcohol, we're old buddies. So what's on the agenda for you two insurance ladies today?"

Millie took a large bite of her pancakes and had no qualms about talking with her mouth full. "I'm not sure. Probably nothing much since Mr. Vash isn't on the move yet. You?"

"Eh, I'm not sure either."

"Well you two are welcome to join us in whatever we decide!"

"Thanks, but do you think Meryl would appreciate that?"

"Oh, she'll be fine! Despite her sometimes hot temper, I think she really likes spending time with you and him whenever you're around!"

From what Nicholas could gather about Meryl, this didn't seem to be the case; she always seemed on pins and needles whenever Vash was nearby. It was a miracle, in his mind, that she hadn't had a heart attack yet from the amount of stress following the sixty-billion-double-dollar man around apparently brought with it.

"Well, we know where you're both staying so we'll come by if we get a chance. How does that sound?"

Millie swallowed what appeared to be half a pancake and answered energetically, "Great!"

* * *

><p>Humming cheerily as he browsed the hodge-podge of items in the small shop, Vash glided from one cluttered table to another. He wasn't particularly searching for anything; all the trinkets had simply caught his eye. Currently, he was the only one in the store; the old woman behind the front counter regarded him with a kind grin.<p>

"You know, you look just like that man on the wanted posters," she remarked. "Vash the Stampede."

Vash glanced up at her and chuckled nervously. "Haha, yeah! I get that a lot."

"You seem too much of a sweetie to be a person like that though, dearie."

"Wow, that's very nice of you to say! Thanks, grandma!"

A glint of silver piqued his interest amongst the bronze and copper antiques. It was a flip lighter; when he turned it over in his hand, a broad smile crept on to his face. Etched in to the metal case was a black cross.

"Hey! How much for this?" he inquired, holding the item up.

The lady adjusted her glasses as she surveyed what it was. "Oh that? I'd say twenty-five double dollars, but for a good boy like you, twenty should be just fine."

"Aw really?! Gee, thanks! I appreciate it!"

He paid her and exited the shop, consistently flipping open the lid and igniting the thin flame like an excited kid with a new toy.

* * *

><p>After aimlessly wandering around the town for a few hours, visiting various shops and people-watching for a bit, Wolfwood returned to the inn. He removed all of his firearms from the Punisher, cleared off the round table in the room, and set out supplies in order to clean his weapons. It had been longer than he would've liked since he had last given them a thorough clean. Traveling around with the sixty-billion-double-dollar man sometimes proved difficult to have a little downtime to one's self. For once, he and the outlaw seemed to have found a relatively quiet town where people so far hadn't recognized Vash as <em>the <em>Vash the Stampede and seeing as how the Humanoid Typhoon was off doing his own thing for the time being, Wolfwood would do the same.

With a brand new bottle of Wild Turkey nearby, Wolfwood enjoyed the quiet rest of his afternoon and evening alone.

* * *

><p>The brief <em>hiss <em>of a match being lit sounded in the otherwise still environment around him as Wolfwood brought the flame to the cigarette dangling from his mouth. He shook the tiny wood stick to extinguish the flame once the paper commenced burning, inhaled deeply, then leisurely expelled the smoke from between his parted lips. In the moonlight, he sat on the edge of the roof of the inn, silently observing the people below.

"Chapel," he suddenly heard someone discreetly call to him. It came from the dark alleyway to the side of the building. He recognized the voice. Zazie the Beast.

"What do you want?"

"Got a message for you. He says, 'Keep it up.'"

The last time he had heard from this gung-ho gun was during the period of Vash's temporary disappearance, after he had tried and failed to execute his comrade. Zazie had delivered new orders that no longer required Wolfwood to murder Vash; instead, he was to deliver the Master's brother in one piece and unharmed.

"Thanks, now beat it," Wolfwood spoke with unhidden harshness.

A bitter cackle was the response. "I think you've gone soft, Chapel."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I've been watching you ever since the last time I visited you. You've gone soft for Vash the Stampede," he ended condescendingly.

Wolfwood said nothing.

"I see how you are with him. And I saw what you did to him last night."

If it had been daytime, Zazie most likely would've seen the color drain from Wolfwood's face. "Pervert," he shot back defensively.

Another cold laugh. "I think you should be calling yourself that. I didn't dry fuck him while he was passed out."

A severe feeling of resentment was welling within Wolfwood. "Get the hell out of here. Go crawl back to the Master."

"Hit a nerve, did I? How rude of me. Better be careful. _He _may not think it, but I believe you've turned traitor. And I don't think he'd appreciate finding out you played with something of his the way you did."

In that statement, "he" didn't mean Vash. It sent a tiny chill down Wolfwood's spine. "That's why you're not smart enough to be anything other than a messenger."

There was no answer, causing the priest to sigh shakily. He had been placed in charge of being basically Vash's bodyguard; but if someone like Zazie could read him so easily, could see his loyalties changing, he knew it wouldn't be long for Knives to do the same.

And since when did Vash become property of Knives?

"…_I don't think he'd appreciate finding out you played with something of his the way you did."_

Was there something he had missed? Some information he wasn't privy to? The way it sounded, Nicholas grew ill at the thought of Knives "playing" with Vash and all the twisted acts it conjured up. How could the gunman have let that happen? The two were brothers.

Suddenly, he understood. Not only could Vash not take something of Knives' in exchange for his arm, he most likely was never able to say "no" to anything his twin wanted. Even if it was himself.

Nicholas wanted to vomit at the notion. Someone so good-hearted and innocent as Vash being stuck with a brother like Knives. There wasn't a chance he had ever stood up to the callous twin.

A few minutes later, he heard the door to the rooftop open, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Hey! There you are!"

Vash came to sit beside him. The preacher couldn't bring himself to even acknowledge him.

"You're quite a night-owl, aren't you?"

Nicholas remained unresponsive.

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Vash remained quiet for a period before pulling his purchase from earlier out of his pocket.

"Here, I got you something." He tossed the wrapped item to Wolfwood, who stared at it, puzzled.

"What is it?"

"Just something I found today and thought you'd like it."

The priest removed the brown paper from around the gift. His cigarette almost fell from between his lips as his mouth fell open in wonder. He couldn't remember the last time he had ever been given a present; it was a practical one, an extremely meaningful one because of who it came from.

Due to his lack of enthusiasm, Vash began to worry. "Do you not want it?"

Wolfwood swallowed the unfamiliar knot in his throat and clasped his fingers around the lighter. "I….It's great."

"Good! You had me scared for a second. Now you can stop carrying around all those damn matches. I don't know how you don't lose them all."

The priest at last locked eyes with Vash, who blushed a little from the intensity in Wolfwood's gaze. "Thank you, Spikey."

Vash smiled warmly. "You're welcome."

They remained where they were for half an hour, neither saying a word, before they returned to their room. Nothing had to be said; it was all expressed in simply being with one another.

* * *

><p>From across the room, Nicholas sat at the table, cigarette in hand, and eyes fixated on the person peacefully asleep on the bed. The words that came to the priest's mind to describe Vash were "absolutely breathtaking," causing him to inwardly reprimand himself for thinking so absurdly. What possessed him to take note of the outlaw's attractiveness? <em>Why <em>did he find him attractive? Ever since Vash had let the preacher dominate his body, Nicholas couldn't contain himself from viewing the other man differently. And not just as a physical object he knew he could get immense pleasure from now; it was something more, something he had wondered if he'd ever experience. Apparently, Vash held the key to more than just saving humans from ultimate genocide.

Wolfwood snarled in disgust, replaying Zazie's words in his mind. Something of _his_. The implication of Vash being _his _made the preacher's blood boil. Vash the Stampede was a free spirit, a drifter, and a loner. He tended to never let anyone too close in order to prevent them from being harmed, in order to keep his heavy burdens his own. If Vash was going to belong to someone, it was going to be to Wolfwood.

The admission of wanting to lay claim on Vash for himself made Wolfwood instantly regret getting lost in his thoughts.

_What the hell am I saying?! I don't want him! You're here to do a damn job, Wolfwood. Get your shit together and quit thinking about him like that!_

He noticed a sudden change in Vash's expression that made him wonder if he was dreaming about complicated feelings and loyalties too. It didn't take him long to notice something was quite wrong, however. Vash's hand clenched in to a fist, his teeth grinded, and his brow creased as his entire body became extremely tense. His breathing grew ragged as he emitted small, strangled noises. Nicholas discarded his cigarette in the ashtray and started towards his comrade.

* * *

><p>"<em>I've found you, Vash the Stampede."<em>

_The voice was unfamiliar to Vash; it seeped in to his skin, in to his very bones and chilled him to the core._

"_Who are you?" he questioned sternly, doing his best to keep his voice even._

"_Legato. I humbly serve the one you've been seeking."_

"_What do you want with me?"_

"_You're very close. Soon, your journey will end. You have kept him waiting for quite some time."_

_Vash didn't have to ask for the intruder to elaborate._

"_He looks forward to your return. You've become strong, but I doubt you will be any sort of threat to him."_

"_He must be stopped. I _will _try."_

"_Your persistence will be your downfall, Vash the Stampede. I am here to grant you another chance. Join him…..or suffer in a living Hell."_

"_I will _never _join him."_

"_Such a shame. With the powers you possess, the two of you together would have had incomprehensible possibilities."_

"_Those are possibilities I do not want to pursue or ever know."_

_A spiteful chuckle came from the unwanted guest. "Before I leave, shall I show you the latest victory?"_

_Images commenced flashing in Vash's mind. Blood and various body parts strewn throughout a city's streets. The survivors' shrieks of panic and anguish. The glint of a sharp blade. Buildings on fire. People running. The plant being ripped from its base and lifted in to the air. Dead bodies._

Vash bolted upright, a terrified and furious scream tearing itself out of his throat. His eyes darted everywhere. In the moonlight, his skin glistened from the cold sweat blanketing him. He suddenly felt a hand on his right arm, promptly causing his bionic one to change in to its gun form. He aimed it at the person in front of him, unable to see who it was; his vision was clouded by rage and horror.

Nicholas thought his heart stopped from the emotions exploding in Vash's usually kind green eyes. He had never felt remotely scared of this man before; right now, however, he believed Vash could easily be a cold-blooded killer. The gun barrel pressed against his forehead and the mad glint in the blonde's eyes almost made him wonder if this was going to be how he would die.

"Vash!" he yelled firmly, though his voice was tremulous. "It's me! Put that thing away!"

The gloved hand tightened its grip around the gun's handle; his finger was curled around the trigger and ready to pull.

"Vash look at me! Listen to my voice! It's alright!"

"What did you do to them?!" Vash shouted frantically and with such wrath in his voice, Nicholas found himself unable to answer. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM?!" the blonde repeated more violently. "ALL OF THOSE PEOPLE!"

"Vash, it's Wolfwood. Whoever you saw in your dream, they're not here." He took note of the minute softening in the other man's infuriated gaze and seized the opportunity to cautiously place his hand on top of the gun barrel. "Vash….Spikey….It's just you and me here."

Gradually, the Vash he knew started to return. He guided the outlaw's arm down, never once letting his eyes stray from the jade ones that were now expressing indescribable turmoil and uncertainty.

"It's okay, Spikey. Just you and me."

The man's arm was entirely lowered to his side before Wolfwood at last breathed a sigh of relief. It changed back in to its original form, and Vash buried his head in his hands. His body started to shake as he sobbed uncontrollably. Wolfwood took a seat next to him on the bed, wrapped his arms around him, and held him to his chest.

For being a preacher, Wolfwood wasn't used to being in a position of comforting someone, though for Vash, he would do his best. It seemed that simply cradling the gunman to him was enough for the time being. The sight and sound of Vash crying freely was heart-wrenching. He had been witness to a few of the blonde's lowest moments, but this was the worst he had seen.

"Come on, Spikey," he soothed, brushing his fingers through the man's hair. "It's alright. Try and take a deep breath. It'll be fine."

It was twenty minutes before Vash regained his composure. He got up without a word, went to the bathroom to splash some water on to his flushed face, and then returned to sit next to Wolfwood. A couple more minutes ticked by before the priest at last spoke.

"So you care to share what that was about?"

Vash was silent, his eyes focused on the floor.

"What's bothering you?" He placed a reassuring hand on his comrade's back and rubbed it affectionately.

There was a heavy sigh before Vash replied, "He's close. One of his servants infiltrated my dream. He's….done such horrible things."

"What did you see?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

There was a beat before Wolfwood prodded, "It seems that no one is immune to Knives' cruelty. I'm guessing not even his own brother."

Vash visibly swallowed, and Wolfwood could see the emotional response welling in the man's eyes.

"And yet….you still care about him, don't you?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"He wasn't always this way," was the quiet answer. "He used to be…."

"Like you. But something happened and now he's a homicidal maniac out for revenge. And for some insane reason, you still care about him."

"You don't understand, Wolfwood. You _can't._ I know his anger. I still feel it myself."

"Now you're making excuses for his actions?"

Vash sharply turned his head to look at the preacher. "No," he said sternly.

"Just like you did when he cut off your arm-"

"No-"

"What about July?"

"Stop it!" Vash shouted heatedly.

For a minute or so, the two regarded one another without a word. The small fire Wolfwood had ignited in the gunman's gaze eventually dwindled.

"I'm sorry," Vash spoke in almost a whisper, looking away once more.

"No, I'm the one who should be saying that. But I just don't understand what goes on in your head, Spikey. Or your heart."

"I know what I _have _to do. I just don't know if I _can._"

"You're not going to be able to reason with him, I'll tell you that right now."

"I know….I know that."

"With all he's done, it should be easy for you to take him out. What's holding you back?"

_He loves him, _Wolfwood thought to himself with slight irritation.

"Vash….Whatever you shared with your brother all those years ago….forget it. It's in the past. And now….Millions Knives is a mass murderer. Is that the kind of family you want back in your life? Because I'm pretty certain he carries no qualms about adding _you _to his body count the first chance he gets. Real brotherly love, if you ask me," he ended with vicious sarcasm.

Vash sighed and closed his eyes. _Knives….if only you could see things differently. It doesn't have to be this way, _he reflected dejectedly. _They don't have to be the enemy. _We _don't have to be enemies._

He brought his knees to his chest and hugged them. "Sometimes…." he started softly. Wolfwood could detect the seriousness and pain in his voice. "….Maybe….It would've been best if….we had never been born."

Wolfwood wanted to slap him for saying such a thing, yet decided against it. Instead, he gripped the outlaw's shoulders firmly and turned him to look directly at him. "Don't you ever think that. Whether you believe it or not or even_know _it, you've touched a lot of lives for the better."

"How? I cause destruction and anger wherever I go-"

"When I first met you, I thought you were an absolute buffoon." The blatant honesty made Vash smirk. "I thought you had no interest in anyone other than yourself. That same day, I saw you risk your own life to save a little girl. The day after that it was someone else. I've seen you do it countless times. You've even saved _mine. _You put _everyone _before yourself. You've let me seen the consequences of your humility and kindness, the cost that's been paid all these years for you protecting everyone but yourself; it's plainly written all over your body."

"Nich-"

The rest of the sentence was lost due to Wolfwood silencing him with his lips. The instant Vash felt the priest's mouth on his, his heart pounded faster and tingles of rapture shot through his veins. A gentle hand cupped his face, and he gave in completely to the loving kiss. When they had engaged each other like this the first time, feelings he didn't understand or wish to address had stirred within him. They returned now, stronger than ever.

At last, Nicholas pulled away. There was something in his eyes Vash had never seen and it stole his breath for a few seconds.

"You…." Nicholas' voice was unsteady and weighted with ardor. "You mean a lot to people, Spikey. To _me._ I would go to the end with you and fight by your side if you'd let me. I'd gladly take a bullet for you because even if _you_don't believe you can win this war against Knives, _I _believe in you. I trust you with everything I have. I-"

It was Vash's turn to interrupt. He grabbed Nicholas' face and kissed him fervently. Strong arms enveloped him, and he soon found himself in the priest's lap, straddling Nicholas' waist. Excited prickles traveled through his body. It wasn't long before his cock was hard; as he grinded against the other man, he was relieved to discover Wolfwood was erect as well.

Vash lifted his arms, and Wolfwood took the hint, pulling the Humanoid Typhoon's shirt off and throwing it aside. Hands roamed over his bare skin – gripping, clawing, and caressing anywhere they could get to. As he moved his lips to Wolfwood's neck, he pressed on the preacher's shoulders to lay him down. His slender fingers deftly flew through the task of unbuttoning the dark-haired man's shirt, granting him the chance to kiss down Wolfwood's torso.

"Where you going?" Nicholas asked practically breathlessly when Vash suddenly got off of him; he propped himself up on his elbows in order to see the gunman clearly.

He received the answer to his inquiry as he watched Vash kneel on the floor. Seemingly impatient hands tugged down his pants. There was a flicker of uncertainty in the blonde's bright eyes, yet he continued with what he set out to do. He clasped his fingers around the priest's erection and with one last glance at Nicholas before closing his eyes, he lowered his head and took in as much of the man's length as he could in to his mouth.

The instant he felt the heat and wetness of the oral cavity, Nicholas tossed his head back and moaned. Vash accompanied his sucking with rubbing his hand up and down the shaft, making Wolfwood's toes curl and his breathing quicken. Often, he felt the gunman's tongue lap at the tip and curl around his hard member.

_Where in the hell did he learn to give such good head?! _he thought to himself. It was by far the best he had ever received. Vash knew exactly what to do to get him to quiver and groan in ecstasy like a helpless puppet. As he observed Vash moving up and down between his legs, he almost asked the question, though hurriedly caught himself. He swallowed in order to help keep the abrupt infuriation and jealousy he now had at bay. If Zazie's inferences were true, he knew where Vash had learned such perfected techniques and for whom he had performed them on.

"Spikey…." he whispered, reaching his hand out to touch the man's cheek. Vash opened his eyes to meet Wolfwood's gaze. "That's good. I want _you_ now."

The words caused Vash to tremble imperceptibly. He too was aching for Nicholas to have him.

Leisurely, Vash ceased his ministrations and permitted the preacher to guide him to lie on his back. He giggled at how swiftly and easily the priest was able to remove the rest of his clothing; his heart raced and his cheeks turned a light shade of red as he now lay wholly naked. Nicholas shed his shirt, and Vash watched him stand up from the bed, take off the remainder of his clothes, and retrieve what the Humanoid Typhoon recognized to be the bottle of lubricant from their first time. The outlaw expected Wolfwood to use it and enter him right away, but it wasn't to be the case. Instead, Wolfwood climbed atop him, held the blonde's arms above his head, and slowly began to place delicate kisses on to the scarred flesh. Vash gasped whenever he felt the man's tongue lick and glide over his skin. He whimpered shamelessly, squirming under Wolfwood as he was flooded by exquisite sensations. His cock was throbbing, dying to be touched by Nicholas' hand, and his body yearned to be satiated by his comrade.

"Nicholas," he forced out. "Please…."

Wolfwood grinned wickedly. He dipped the tip of his tongue in to the gunman's navel, causing Vash to emit a strangled cry of pleasure. "Not yet." Vash gave a whine like a disappointed child, making Wolfwood chuckle. "Soon." He lightly bit his partner's nipple, enjoying the surprised and delighted response the action received. "I promise."

"Nich-"

The priest hushed him with a finger pressed to his lips. "Shhh….Close your eyes and let me make you forget everything for tonight."

Wolfwood smiled benevolently upon seeing Vash's eyes become glassy. He leaned down to kiss the blonde several times, loving the feel of his comrade's fingers in his hair.

"Let me do something for you, Vash the Stampede," he whispered in to the man's ear, accompanying the statement with nibbling on Vash's lobe and gently tugging on the silver earring with his teeth. He was rewarded with a number of shaky moans.

Not until Vash's eyes closed did Nicholas continue his exploration of the Humanoid Typhoon's body. His hands traversed the nude being freely while his mouth conquered other areas. He was pleased whenever he made the man flinch in rapture. He wanted nothing more than to give Vash the most indescribable night he could, to make his comrade feel protected, desired, and treasured.

Eventually, he found himself below the blonde's waist. He licked along the length of Vash's cock; the resulting moan it brought made his own twitch with excitement. Unhurriedly, he inched his hands along the inside of the gunman's thighs. Sweat shined on Vash's face and body; his mouth was open as he emitted constant sounds of bliss. Desperately, his hands clutched at the sheets, needing something to hold on to as he was submerged in utter carnality.

"P-Please," he pleaded with weak urgency. "Please just take me. I….I need you."

Those three words made Nicholas stop. It was spoken, in his mind, as nothing more than for the fulfillment sexually, but he badly wanted to have it mean Vash needed him in everything. As a friend. A defender. A fighter. A comforter. A lover.

"Turn over," Wolfwood instructed quietly. Vash obeyed promptly. While the preacher coated his erection with the lubricant, Vash braced himself on his hands and knees. His heart thumped away violently in his chest. He felt more at ease than he had been during their first time, though nervousness still rushed through him. There was a fear of disappointing Wolfwood.

A consoling hand rested on his shoulder for a brief moment, as if Wolfwood could hear his thoughts, before it moved to his hip. Instinctively, he tensed the instant he felt the head of Wolfwood's cock ease inside of him. He let out a pained whimper, closed his eyes, and bowed his head. Wolfwood withdrew from the man's body only to penetrate Vash once again more deeply than before. He noticed the blonde shuddering and saw a tear seep in to the sheet below.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked with concern.

Vash took several deep breaths before shaking his head. "No," was the faint response. He inhaled sharply, and Nicholas watched another teardrop fall. "No, I want you to keep going."

Nicholas wasn't about to argue; he was aching to ride Vash, to make the Humanoid Typhoon _his._

It was difficult, but Nicholas managed to contain himself from forcing his hard member in to Vash in one thrust. He went slowly, gauging the blonde's reactions for when he could speed it up. Languidly, he trailed his hand down Vash's back, traced the gunman's arched spine. After a few minutes, he started to thrust in and out of the man's body at a moderate pace. With every push, Vash let out a soft grunt. He was abruptly quieted by Nicholas' fingers probing his mouth. Vehemently, he sucked on the priest's digits, happy to hear Wolfwood moan in return.

The preacher's fingers eventually glided against Vash's cheek before Wolfwood firmly gripped his hips. A hurt groan came from him due to the crushing pressure Wolfwood was putting on his fresh bruise from the night before, though the dark-haired man didn't seem to notice.

Nicholas' propulsions became faster and more powerful as he neared his climax. Vash fell to his elbows and rested his forehead against the bed, crying out with every vigorous thrust.

At last, Nicholas went rigid and stopped. Vash felt the warm liquid spill inside of him and waited patiently for Nicholas to pull away, but was taken aback when he felt the preacher grab hold of his cock.

"You don't have to," Vash panted, though his head was reeling in rapture as his comrade energetically rubbed up and down his shaft.

"It's only fair," Wolfwood purred.

Nicholas smiled amusedly at how quickly the blonde reached orgasm. Apparently, he was very sensitive tonight.

Legs entangled with one another's, Nicholas laid on his back with Vash snuggled against him. Their heavy breathing resonated in the otherwise silent room. For a long while, neither said a word. Affectionately, Wolfwood stroked Vash's no longer spiked, damp hair. The gunman traced various patterns on the preacher's chest, lost in his own thoughts. He couldn't remember ever feeling as content or wanted as he did now. Maybe there had been a time with Knives, but the memory had been lost over the years. In this moment, he felt as if a lifetime with Wolfwood by his side still wouldn't be long enough. How had he allowed himself to be blind to his profound connection with Wolfwood? His eyes filled with tears at the thought of never having an instance like this again with the priest. Knives was close and therefore, so was his own likely death. In his mind, it was inevitable; either he and Knives would die together or Knives would get the upper hand and murder him.

Nicholas felt the outlaw tremble, making him hold Vash tighter.

"Nicholas?" Vash asked, his voice strangled by threatening tears and laced with enormous emotion.

"What is it, Spikey?"

There was a pause before the blonde murmured, "Thank you."

Nicholas was about to inquire "what for?" but thought better of it. Instead, he placed a tender kiss on the man's forehead and whispered, "Get some sleep, Spikey."

Vash nuzzled his face against Wolfwood's chest before he settled down and closed his eyes. From the exertion of Nicholas making love to him, it was mere minutes before his body relaxed entirely and he fell asleep, a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips.


	4. Say You'll Stay the Night

The first sun was just beginning to rise when Nicholas awoke. He was lying on his side and sighed contently from the feel of Vash's body pressed against his back and the man's arm slung over him. By the sound of his breathing, the priest could tell the blonde was still asleep. He took the outlaw's hand and kissed it before slipping out of Vash's embrace. Trying not to disturb his comrade's sleep, he carefully and slowly got up from the bed and started putting on his clothes.

The movement of the mattress roused Vash. He exhaled a deep breath before opening his eyes tiredly.

"Where you going?" he asked sleepily.

Nicholas turned around and brushed his fingers through the disheveled blonde hair a couple times. "Just want to get some fresh air. Go back to sleep."

Vash smiled from Wolfwood caressing his face and closed his eyes. After waiting a minute or so, Wolfwood silently left the room.

* * *

><p>It was a couple hours later when Vash stretched out, breathed in deeply, gradually exhaled, and sat up. He wearily glanced around the room, not seeing Wolfwood anywhere.<p>

"Wolfy?" he called gently.

He put his hand on the back of his neck and sighed. To say he wasn't a tad upset would be a lie. The feeling didn't last long, however, as the door opened and Nicholas entered. Immediately, Vash felt flutters in his stomach. He beamed happily as the priest sat beside him on the bed.

"I wondered if you'd be up. Here, I got you these," Nicholas said, handing the blonde a box of donuts.

Vash took them graciously and wasted no time in starting to devour the food. "Thank ya thank ya!" he voiced with a mouth full.

"Just don't get any crumbs on the bed, alright?"

A thumbs-up was the reply.

"Sleep well?"

"Mmhm."

"No more nightmares?"

Vash shook his head.

"Good."

In what seemed like no time at all, Vash had downed the entire dozen donuts.

"Mmmm, delicious," he said with satisfaction.

"Hit the spot?"

"Very much so! Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Vash laughed a bit sheepishly before questioning, "Uh, it's a little late now, but did you want some?"

"That's very considerate of you," Wolfwood answered with a small smile, causing the gunman to return the gesture. "I already ate."

"Okay good."

They sat in silence for a minute or so before Vash spoke rather seriously, "I'm leaving tomorrow."

"I figured you'd want to start moving soon."

"I have to face him alone. You don't-"

"I'm coming."

Vash turned his head and Wolfwood met his gaze. "There's no need to-"

"I'm going to the end with you." The outlaw was about to respond, though Wolfwood cut him off. "There's no reason to argue about it, Spikey. Not going to change my mind."

Vash sighed and rested his head in his hands. "Stubborn bastard," he muttered. He glanced at the priest and grinned.

Nicholas gave an amused laugh and slapped the other man on the back. "That's rich coming from you. You're the most stubborn person I've ever met! If anything, you rubbed off on me."

"Yeah, I kind of have that effect on people."

"It's annoying." Nicholas pulled a cigarette from his jacket pocket, lit it, and took a drag. "Now, if we're leaving tomorrow, we need some supplies. Also need to give Angelina Two a tune-up. So….get around, sleeping beauty. I'll be waiting downstairs."

Wolfwood stood and made his way to the door. Before he closed the entrance, he turned to steal a last glance at Vash and was quite pleased to see the man's nude body in full. A hungry leer crept on to the priest's face.

If he had anything to do with it, he'd be exploring that physique one last time later in the night.

* * *

><p>After stocking up on ammunition, Vash returned to the inn in order to clean his silver revolver and the gun in his arm. He made sure his quick refill canisters were full with six bullets, the submachine gun had shells ready to fire, and set aside ammo to put in his outside coat pockets in the morning. Surveying the table with all of his supplies laid out before him, he felt queasy. The realization of at last confronting his brother was sinking in entirely. Ever since they had separated decades ago, he had imagined their eventual meet up often. He played out every scenario in his mind: Knives defeating him, him defeating Knives, or the least possible outcome of Knives having a change of heart.<p>

_I know you want me. I'm coming….I just hope I'm ready. Whatever happens….I tried, Rem. Please know I tried._

He closed his eyes, letting a lone tear escape.

_Rem….please help me. Please give me strength. Let me know this has all been worth it and what I should do. I know it's not right to take someone else's life, but I don't know what else would stop him. Help me see another way. There's _always _another way, right? And he's my brother. I love him. I….can't….What do I do, Rem? _

He folded his arms on the table, rested his head atop them, and cried freely as his emotions overwhelmed him.

* * *

><p>It was late afternoon when Vash ventured outside once again. He started down the street, smiling from spotting Wolfwood sitting on the ground working away at fixing his motorcycle.<p>

"How's it coming?" he asked as he approached him.

"Good! Gave her an oil change, some gas, changed a couple pistons. Just finishing tightening up some bolts at the moment." Wolfwood got to his feet, wiped his brow with the back of his hand, and turned on the ignition. "Aha! Listen to that. Almost like new. We shouldn't have any trouble getting there, no matter how far."

"I have a feeling it isn't that much."

"Well, we'll be good to go either way. Now, I'm going to get cleaned up. What say you to having a few drinks with your friends tonight?"

"The insurance girls?"

"The only other friends you have."

Vash smirked. "Got me there. Alright. I could use one more night of drinking."

Wolfwood noticed the green eyes cloud with a hint of remorse. He clapped the blonde on the shoulder and voiced reassuringly, "I believe you'll have many more. I'll buy you a round when this is all over."

"Thanks, but you think you could change that offer and buy tonight? It's a sure thing I'll make it to then."

"Sure, why not? Just don't go overboard like the last time, Spikey."

Vash gave a light chuckle. "I won't. Promise."

Wolfwood squeezed Vash's shoulder to serve as an affectionate gesture before treading back to the inn. Vash stared towards the vast desert outside of the city.

_Tomorrow….I'm coming for you, Knives. _

* * *

><p>"Give me another, please!"<p>

"Millie, I think you've had quite enough."

"No no! I'm….fine!"

Meryl sighed exasperatedly. "Give her another."

Wolfwood obliged and poured the brunette a shot of Wild Turkey. While she downed it, Vash returned to sit at the table with a round of four beers.

"Ahhh! That-that hit the spot! Let me have one of those!"

"_Millie!_"

Paying no attention to Meryl's chastising, Millie grabbed one of the mugs from Vash and was about to chug it when Wolfwood put a hand on her arm.

"Hey! Slow down there!"

"Huh?"

"I propose a toast first." He took a glass and held it up. "To good friends, a good life, and good love." At those last few words, he locked eyes with Vash, who smiled shyly and blushed a little. "Cheers!"

"Cheers!" the three others echoed, clinking their glasses against the preacher's.

They went silent as all of them drank as much as they could. Only Meryl was unable to finish hers in one go.

"Woohoo!" Millie voiced merrily. The live band in the bar began a new song, causing her to clap her hands together and say delightedly, "Oh, I love this one! Come on, Mr. Vash! Let's dance!"

"Well, I'm not really a dan-"

The last bit of his sentence was cut off as the tall woman grabbed his arm and practically dragged him to the dance floor. She calmed down enough to let him take the lead, giggling uncontrollably, which made the Humanoid Typhoon laugh along with her. A broad grin remained on his countenance, and Nicholas could detect the sheer joy in his bright eyes. It was the least Nicholas could do, he thought, taking the man out for a few drinks. He had hoped it'd keep Vash from thinking about what was to come. As he watched the two friends dance – or rather attempt to; neither had a sense of rhythm – he could tell the heavy thoughts had left Vash's mind for the time being. Tomorrow, all Hell would break loose; one more carefree night had definitely been in order.

His heart leapt when Vash turned to look at him. For a moment, everything around them disappeared. The two of them were alone, exchanging unspoken words of feelings that neither still wanted to admit to. The blonde winked at him, making him laugh to himself and give a small wave.

They both were suddenly taken by surprise from Millie grasping Vash's face and kissing him on the lips.

"Oopsie!" she exclaimed before passing out. Vash caught her before she hit the ground, slung her arm across his shoulders, and brought her back to the table.

With a slightly embarrassed chuckle, Vash confessed, "Maybe we should call it a night."

* * *

><p>After helping Meryl get Millie back to their residence, Vash and Wolfwood returned to theirs.<p>

"Woo, what a night, eh needle-noggin'?" the priest asked somewhat tiredly.

"Yeah," Vash replied with a smile, starting to unbutton his coat. "She sure can drink, huh?"

"I'm almost tempted to say she could give me a run for my money one of these days."

Once the blonde had removed his coat, he stared at it, and Wolfwood regarded him closely. The gunman had his back to him, but Nicholas could sense the heaviness weighing on him. Vash was utterly still as he focused on his garment. A tear splashed onto one of the buttons.

"You alright?" Nicholas asked with concern. There was no answer. "Vash?"

"She loved the color red," the outlaw stated so quietly, Nicholas almost didn't hear it. "It was the color of her favorite flower. I sometimes think….by wearing red….she's always with me."

Not knowing what to say, the preacher remained silent. He watched as Vash hugged the coat to him lovingly, the fabric absorbing the few tears that tracked down his cheeks. A number of seconds went by before he inhaled deeply and proceeded to hang it up in the wardrobe.

"Vash…."

The blonde wiped his face and replaced his somber expression with a cheery one. "So!" he said energetically. "You going to sleep? I think I'm gonna stay up for a bit."

Wolfwood was speechless at the abrupt change in mood.

Vash began unbuckling and unbuttoning the black armor suit. It took him less than five minutes to be out of it and changed in to his usual bed clothes. While he had been busy with that, Nicholas sat at the table with two shot glasses and filled them with whiskey.

"Wanna share a few more?"

The Humanoid Typhoon grinned and settled in the chair across from him. "Why not?"

They threw the shots back, slammed the glasses on to the table, and sighed at the burning sensation in their throats.

"Packs quite a punch, huh?" Nicholas said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, no kiddin'."

"Another?"

"Of course."

They drank three more before calling it quits. Vash folded his arms and put them on the table as he leaned forward. He couldn't bring himself to look at the preacher until Wolfwood spoke again.

"I know you have your secrets, but seeing as how it's our last night together, mind tellin' me exactly what you are? Demon? Angel? God himself?"

Vash gave a small laugh. "No, nothing that exotic or important. I'm a plant. Apart from one other, Knives and I are the only independent, free-thinking ones we know of."

"I thought plants were supposed to work for humans."

"It's what we were made for. We just ended up turning out differently. Knives' plan is to create a world in which only plants live. He doesn't trust humans."

"What's the story on that?"

"It's a long one. I don't feel like talking about it."

A long pause settled between the two. There was one question the priest desired to ask above all else, yet he hesitated from not wanting to upset his comrade. What _was _the story on Vash's relationship with Knives? Had it, _did _it, cross the line of being more than just typical brothers to one another? Was there a chance he'd ever be able to take Knives' place in Vash's life?

Letting his curiosity get the better of him and throwing all correctness out the window, Nicholas bluntly asked, "You slept with him, didn't you?"

Vash's green eyes widened and his face turned pale. "Wh-What?"

"Your brother. You slept with him. It's why you can't bring yourself to kill him, isn't it?"

The gunman attempted to respond, but his throat was constricted.

"You two were all you had. If Knives has such hatred of humans, I doubt he'd sully himself by laying with one. That leaves only you. The only one he deems worthy. Am I close?"

Vash swallowed and his vision became blurry. Nicholas saw the shame and embarrassment written on his countenance. Bowing his head, the blonde said shakily, "Yeah, you're close."

"Did he force himself on you? Did you want it?" He knew he was prying in business he had no right to be; he blamed the alcohol speaking for him.

"….Sometimes."

"Sometimes what?"

"….It was always my fault….But there were times….He'd say he did it for mating purposes, that maybe somehow the two of us would be able to recreate a plant with free-will….The other times….I knew he loved me."

"Do you love him?"

"He's the only family I have left."

"Are you _in love_ with him?"

There was no reply.

"Vash-"

The blonde suddenly stood up, his focus still on the floor. "I think I'm going to try and sleep now."

He made it halfway to the bed before Nicholas stepped in front of him.

"Please move," he pleaded quietly.

Wolfwood lifted the man's chin and stared directly at him. "For all those years, all you had was him," the priest began gently. "All you knew was the twisted, brutal love he gave you. But now…." He placed a delicate kiss on his comrade's cheek. Vash shivered from the touch. "….You have me. No matter what happens, Spikey, you have me."

Vash threw his arms around Wolfwood and hugged him securely. They held each other for a lengthy moment with neither saying a word. The blonde buried his face in the crook of the priest's neck, struggling to contain the incessant urge to weep. A comforting hand rested against the back of his head, massaging it gently. There was a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, something telling him to savor whatever physical and emotional contact he had with the preacher this night because it would never come again.

The gunman at last pulled away, searched Nicholas' dark eyes for reassurance and found undeniable yearning. It sent tingles down his spine, and he smiled timidly.

"One last time?" he whispered.

"You never have to ask, needle noggin'."

Rapidly, they started undressing one another. In a matter of seconds, they tumbled on to the bed, naked; Vash quickly took control and climbed atop Wolfwood, grinning at the somewhat surprised expression on the preacher's face.

"My turn to do all the work," the outlaw murmured seductively.

"Alright by me."

They kissed one another deeply; Wolfwood's hand ventured up the other man's arm to caress his cheek. Whenever his lips touched the Humanoid Typhoon's smooth ones, he felt himself heat up like a mild fire had been lit within him. There was something so unbelievably mesmerizing about kissing Vash; he doubted he would feel anything quite like it with someone else. The sensation of the tough, mutilated flesh against his own had grown to be something he knew he couldn't live without. He needed this man like he needed food and water. Right now, he didn't care what the hell he classified Vash as: friend, ally, lover – he simply knew he _needed _him to be _something _in his life for as long as he walked the planet.

Blindly, Vash reached for the bottle of lube on the nightstand, broke away from the priest's mouth, and sensually slicked Wolfwood's erection with the substance. His eyes eventually met the dark-haired man's, and Wolfwood found the shyness in the green orbs adorable.

_You'd think by now he'd be more confident, _Nicholas mused.

"Not wasting any time in getting down to business, eh?" he asked, letting out a low groan as long fingers traveled the length of his cock leisurely.

"We don't have much of it left," Vash stated somberly.

Nicholas stroked the Humanoid Typhoon's face a few times before trailing his hand down the man's chest. "Vash…."

"I….I want to remember how you feel….inside me….I don't ever want to forget."

Wolfwood didn't know how to respond, though it didn't matter as Vash raised himself up, took hold of the preacher's hard member, and guided it into his body. The blonde shut his eyes tightly and emitted several quiet whimpers as he slowly eased himself down until the other man was wholly within him. Wolfwood watched him eagerly, noting every grimace of pain that flickered across Vash's visage and drowning in every delicious sound the gunman uttered.

The priest placed his hands on Vash's waist, waiting almost impatiently for him to start moving. The blonde remained still for a time before at last he rocked forward. The movement caused both of them to moan in pleasure. He continued back and forth for a couple of minutes and then proceeded to move up and down, lifting himself almost completely off of Nicholas' cock as he did so. Nicholas closed his eyes, allowing himself to be overtaken by ecstasy. He could feel that he was deeper than he had ever been inside Vash's body. The Humanoid Typhoon seemed to share the sentiment; the sounds filtering out of his opened mouth were louder and shakier than the times before.

Beads of sweat began to glisten on their skin as Vash unreservedly rode his partner. He leaned forward and slammed his hands down onto the mattress on either side of Wolfwood's head as he put all of his energy in to the act.

"God, Vash," Wolfwood breathed. "You….So good…."

Vash panted as he worked diligently to bring his comrade to orgasm. Wolfwood firmly gripped the gunman's strong biceps and after a few more minutes, he went stiff. The blonde slowed down his movements and moaned with Wolfwood as the preacher climaxed.

Sitting upright, Vash let his head fall back and clenched his muscles around Nicholas' spent member. He gasped for breath and whimpered softly at the touch of the other male's fingers beginning to caress his exposed neck. He stayed in place as Nicholas sat up, enveloped him in his arms, and started licking along the taut skin. Affectionate, yet hungry kisses replaced tongue, eliciting unabashed sounds of ecstasy to escape from Vash's open mouth. He grabbed a fistful of Wolfwood's hair and lost himself in complete rapture.

"Wolfy…." he gasped. "I…I…."

"Shhh…."

The words Vash wanted to say wouldn't come. He knew the preacher cared about him and recently realized just how fiercely protective Nicholas was of him. Still, he feared what the man's reaction would be if he admitted feeling the way he did. Danger was something he could handle; rejection was another story, even though he had never really experienced it before.

Wolfwood at last pulled away and rested back down. Their breathing continued to be heavy and labored. Vash hovered over him, still quaking from the intensity of everything, and opened his eyes to discover Wolfwood gazing at him fondly.

"You're….you're amazing, you know that?" Wolfwood was able to voice sincerely with a wide grin.

Vash chuckled a little and blushed. "Think so?"

"Know so, Spikey."

For a handful of minutes, the two stared at one another longingly, both seemingly committing the intimate moment to memory – every detail, sound, sensation, emotion.

Unhurriedly, Vash got off of Wolfwood and was about to lay down next to the man, but was stopped as the priest sat up once again. Resting his forehead against the outlaw's, Wolfwood said tenderly, "I'm betting on you, tomorrow."

The Humanoid Typhoon clasped his fingers around his comrade's wrist as Nicholas cupped his face in his hands. "Don't say that," he sighed dejectedly.

"You can do it. I'll fight with you-"

"No. I have to do this alone. It's time I settled this once and for all."

"Then may the grace of God go with you."

The statement aroused a laugh out of both of them. "Thanks, mon père."

"You _will _survive. You're Vash the Stampede."

"Sometimes I wish I wasn't."

Nicholas raised the man's chin and stared at him sternly. "That's a shame. I sure do like that guy." The sentence succeeded in its intended purpose, to make the sixty-billion-double-dollar man smile. "Give him hell, Spikey."

"I will."

Vash leaned forward and brushed his lips against the preacher's. They shared several long, drawn-out kisses before Wolfwood pulled the gunman down to lay atop him. The blonde exhaled a satisfied breath as fingertips danced along his back.

"Since you're not human," Wolfwood began, perking Vash's attention, "do I need to be worried about side effects from having sex with a plant?"

Vash could hear in his comrade's tone that the priest wasn't being serious. "I don't know. You're the only human I've ever slept with," he answered mischievously, yet with complete honesty, and smiled.

"I suppose if I start acting like you or demonstrating your kind of abilities, I'll let you know."

"Please do."

Several minutes went by before Wolfwood muttered quietly, "Better try and sleep, Spikey. Going to need all your strength to face him."

"Yeah, I'll try."

* * *

><p>An hour went by, and Vash remained wide awake. His mind was racing a mile a minute with thoughts and memories of his brother. He had an answer to Wolfwood's question from earlier, yet had been too mortified to share it. It made no sense to him why he'd still hold on to such feelings for Knives, and now he was being pulled in a different direction as his heart swelled for the preacher who continued to be a mystery to him.<p>

"Wolfy?" he whispered almost inaudibly. "Nick."

Cautiously in order to not wake the other man, Vash got up and went to the small table at the opposite side of the room. He was glad to find what he was hoping for in the drawer: pen and paper. With a weighty sigh, he sat down, took up the pen, and commenced writing a lengthy letter.

If his confrontation with Knives was to be his last, he was going to make sure Nicholas D. Wolfwood knew exactly how he felt about him and his final thoughts as he neared the end; he would confess and confide everything to the priest. Whatever he hadn't been able to say aloud, he would commit it to paper.

Almost two hours passed before he finished. Folding the pages in half a couple of times, he stuffed the letter in to one of the inside pockets of his coat and returned to lay beside Wolfwood. He ran his fingers through the dark hair for a few minutes, placed a delicate kiss on to the man's cheek, and closed his eyes.

At last, his mind was at ease and he fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Sunlight poured in to the room; the two occupants were already dressed and ready to leave.<p>

After purchasing a dozen donuts, they sat down on a bench nearby and ate in silence. Begrudgingly, Vash shared three of them with his comrade; Wolfwood poked fun at the blonde for how protective he was about his favorite food, which made Vash simply scowl at him.

As they started towards the preacher's motorcycle, they were aware of everyone watching them warily. A group of six men formed a line in front of them, preventing them from advancing any farther.

"What seems to be the problem, boys?" Nicholas asked kindly. "We were just on our way out of town."

"We don't have any trouble with you, Father. Just your friend," one of them replied. "We know now that's Vash the Stampede, the sixty-billion-double-dollar man."

"I'm not here to cause any trouble," Vash stated cheerfully. The crowd of men aimed and cocked their guns at him, prompting him to hold up his arms to show he wouldn't try anything.

"We don't care about that! We intend to collect the bounty on your head!"

Without warning, a townsman fired his gun, making Wolfwood jump in surprise. Vash dodged the bullet by stepping to the side at a speed none could comprehend. It wasn't this ability that made everyone watching gasp in shock, however. A second shot had been fired from off to his right.

"Spikey…." Wolfwood voiced in disbelief.

Vash followed the priest's gaze and looked at his arm. "Oh no," he whispered fearfully.

The tendril dissipated, leaving in its wake feather-like crystals that floated to the ground. The strand of white had appeared seemingly out of his forearm and caught the shell before it penetrated the outlaw's head.

A grave hush hung in the air as everyone stared at him, horrified and stunned.

_I still have so much to learn about this power, _Vash reflected. _It doesn't even need my thought to activate it….I'm sure Knives knows all about our capabilities and I have yet to fully understand…._

"Wh-….What are you?" someone finally questioned. All at once, the two were bombarded with angry shouting.

"DEMON!"

"He's not human!"

"Get him out of here!"

"Go back to Hell!"

"Get out of here! We don't want you!"

"DEVIL!"

"He's the Diablo!"

"That's enough!" Wolfwood yelled furiously. "We were just leaving!"

The insults continued to be hurled at Vash as he and the preacher hurried to the motorcycle. They loaded their belongings and sped off toward the wilderness.

"Jeeze, Spikey, what the hell _was_ that?!" Nicholas questioned, still flabbergasted at what had just happened. He had seen Vash liberate his power before and witnessed it fully unrestrained; he hadn't expected it to reveal itself on such a small scale and without more of an impact on the Humanoid Typhoon like transforming his body. There had been no indication of it having been triggered.

There was no answer. He glanced at the gunman and felt a tinge of pity; Vash looked greatly troubled and undeniably miserable. Nicholas could tell the harsh words had gotten to him.

"Don't listen to them, Vash. They don't know what they're talking about."

"Maybe they're right," was the despondent response.

"Now stop that! Don't you dare think that, Spikey!"

Vash bowed his head, and Nicholas was taken aback at what he saw. Amidst the golden spiked locks, a tiny portion had turned dark brown; it was immensely noticeable in stark contrast to the otherwise blonde hair.

_What the? When did _that_ happen? _

Deciding not to further possibly add to Vash's worries, Nicholas said nothing. Pushing sixty iles an hour, they sped off in the direction of the twin suns.


	5. Homecoming

**A/N: **Big thanks to Lady Geuna for the nice reviews. Made me smile. :D

* * *

><p>Three hours in to their trip, they stopped to take a break and stretch. Wolfwood lit a cigarette and observed his companion, who stood immobile several feet ahead of him. Vash had been relatively quiet ever since they had left the city, a solemn expression clouding his features the entire time. The preacher could only imagine what thoughts were running through the man's head.<p>

_Nothing good, I'm sure….What in the hell?_

Something caught his attention, causing him to step towards the gunman. From under the blonde's coat collar, Wolfwood noticed a handful of exquisite feathers that had seemingly sprouted from the back of Vash's neck; they looked the same as the ones that had formed from the outlaw's arm and stopped the bullet earlier.

"Uh, Vash?"

Turning around, the Humanoid Typhoon met the priest's eyes and asked, "Yeah?"

Judging by his reaction, Wolfwood determined Vash had no idea about the plumage. "Nothing," he said after a moment. _Why trouble him with it? _he thought.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. It's nothing."

Vash offered a thoughtful smile, though Wolfwood could see just how weary and melancholy he truly was. It pained the preacher to not be able to alleviate any of his friend's burdens; there was no way to soothe the man's mind.

"He's close," Vash spoke gravely. "I feel it. It won't be much farther."

"Paid any thought to what you'll say to him when you see him?"

The blonde pondered this for a minute before replying with an empty chuckle, "No, I haven't. Guess I half expect to just aim my gun at him and shoot."

"I think that's perfectly acceptable."

Without a word, Vash removed the cigarette from Nicholas' mouth. The preacher was about to object from assuming his comrade was going to extinguish it on the ground, but was stunned when Vash took a drag from it. Nicholas was surprised the man didn't have a coughing fit; instead, it was as if Vash had done it before.

After exhaling a stream of smoke, Vash tossed the butt to the ground and squashed it under his boot. "Honestly, Wolfy. It's such a bad habit."

"What the hell was that for?!"

"Ready?"

Vash made his way back to the side car of the bike, grinning at the flustered and irritated look on the priest's face and the growl that accompanied it.

"Damn it, Spikey," Nicholas grumbled and hopped on the motorcycle. "You're lucky I don't punch you."

"I'm looking out for your health! You should be thanking me."

"Cigarettes to me are like donuts to you. Next time you're eating one, I'll knock it out of your hand! See how you like it!"

"I'd like to see you try!"

"Oh I will!"

Vash rested his head in his hand and closed his eyes as they began traveling once more. He hoped Wolfwood would get the chance, but his heart told him otherwise.

_You'll find someone else to do it to, Wolfy, _he reasoned mournfully. _And that's okay….It's okay…._

Discreetly, he wiped away a couple of tears that raced down his cheeks, praying that Nicholas didn't notice.

* * *

><p>It was two hours later when they stopped again; this time, it was because they had reached their destination. In the middle of the open desert, another ship of only a handful that had survived the Great Fall had made its final resting place. Even though he'd seen one before when he had accompanied Vash to visit his "family," Wolfwood found himself in awe of its size.<p>

"This is it," Vash had stated as they approached in the motorcycle.

"How can you be sure?" The priest took note of a number of feathers leaving a trail behind them; more continued to fly from the back of the gunman's neck.

"I'm sure. I can feel him."

Wolfwood parked half an ile away from the ship, expecting them to infiltrate in some covert way. He soon found out this was not to be the case, however; casually as ever, Vash strolled towards the craft.

"You intend to just go through the front door?!" Nicholas yelled as he caught up to the other man.

"Yeah."

Nicholas started stuttering, incredibly flummoxed.

"It's not like he doesn't know I'm coming, Wolfy. I think he's done sending others to do the dirty work for him. He's ready to fight me himself."

Vash wondered if his calm façade was fooling Nicholas at all; inside, his heart was pounding uncomfortably fast and his stomach felt like it was doing flips. The perspiration on his skin wasn't only from the heat of the suns; he was utterly on edge and afraid. If he was being entirely honest, he was also eager to see his brother.

Acting as if he had been there before, Vash entered the vessel without hesitation. The large, seemingly empty space was dimly lit. The air was rank with the smell of blood and gunpowder.

"Apparently, we're not the only ones to visit," Wolfwood muttered.

A staircase loomed in front of them, and a figure clad in white descended the steps.

"You've finally come, Vash the Stampede," a silky voice greeted. "We've been waiting."

"And you are?" Vash inquired evenly.

"Elendira. Crimson Nail. You may call me either." As she came to stand in front of them, she curtly addressd Wolfwood. "Chapel."

"Good to see you too," the priest answered with bitter sarcasm.

"Where's Knives?" The outlaw didn't care to waste any time.

"Outside. Straight down that corridor and through the door."

Vash hastily began to tread towards the hallway that would lead him at last to his brother, but Wolfwood grabbed his arm, causing him to turn around.

"This is it, Spikey," the preacher said quietly. "Let me come with you."

"No, Nicholas. Not this time." They stared at one another for several seconds in silence. Vash smiled sweetly, removed his sunglasses from his face, and placed them in to Wolfwood's hand. "Something to remember me by, okay?" His voice quivered from the growing impulse to cry; he felt as if he were bursting at the seams from the emotions exploding inside of him.

Nicholas glanced down at his palm and closed his eyes. It took everything he had to keep his composure. "I'll hold on to them until you come back for 'em," he replied and gazed at the tearful green eyes of his comrade. "For safe keeping. You _will _come back for them."

Vash swallowed hard and nodded. "Sure. I'll come back for them."

Wolfwood suddenly put his arms around the blonde and hugged the gunman tightly. Vash held on to him strongly in return, knowing that the instant he let go, he'd be letting his dearest friend go forever.

"I'm still betting on you, remember?" Wolfwood murmured into the outlaw's ear.

Vash shut his eyes; tears flooded down his face. "Mmhm," was all he could answer with.

"I'll be here when it's over, alright?"

A few shuddering breaths was the response.

"Take. Care. Of him, Spikey. It's up to you now to save us all." A couple of clear droplets fell from the preacher's dark eyes. His throat choked on the words he knew he needed to say, the words that mattered more than anything.

"I'll….I'll do my best, Wolfy. Promise."

At last, they pulled away from one another. Vash's fingers twitched at his side; it was now or never, giving the priest the letter he had written for him the night before. He inwardly shouted irately at himself for realizing he couldn't bring himself to share it.

"Well," Nicholas said dully. "Better get going."

Vash clenched his teeth, wiped away the tear tracks left on his cheeks, and straightened his posture. "Yeah….Take care of yourself, Wolfy."

"You too, Spikey."

Slowly, the gunman turned and walked towards the dark corridor ahead.

_You're not really letting him go alone are you?! _Nicholas yelled to himself. _You're going to let him go without at least a kiss goodbye?! As soon as he goes out that door, there's a good chance you won't ever see him again! Do something! _Say _something! _

An amused chuckle broke him from his thoughts. He glared at the source.

"What's so damn funny?" he asked disdainfully.

"You love him, don't you?" Elendira countered smoothly. "How very touching. You never told him that, though. And now, you'll never get the chance."

Wolfwood was about to respond, yet the thunderous sound of a door opening and closing made him pause. His heart felt as if it were falling lifelessly to the pit of his stomach.

_He's gone….He's gone….And I just let him go…._

"I wouldn't stick around for too long, if I were you," Elendira stated matter-of-factly.

"Why's that?"

"You're assignment is now complete. From what I witnessed between you and him and Intel from Zazie, your loyalties have changed….I see that I made the right decision."

"What do you mean? What decision?"

"You might want to return to your orphanage."

Wolfwood went pale. "What are you talking about? What did you do?!"

"Nothing yet. The sooner you get going, though, the better."

Stealing one final glance to the passageway in which Vash had disappeared into, Wolfwood rushed out of the ship.

* * *

><p>The suns seemed harsher than usual, making Vash squint as he stepped outside of the space vessel. He surveyed the surroundings; some large boulders adorned the flat bedrock and a tall rock cliff was to his left. Standing near the base of it was a solitary man. He was wearing all black: a long sleeved shirt and slacks; his white hair gave him a sense of brightness in comparison to his clothing. A dark brown gun holster was strapped to his right thigh, and Vash recognized the black revolver that rested in it.<p>

_This is it….Rem….Please help me survive this._

As the Humanoid Typhoon approached, the man turned around to face him. A deceivingly charming grin graced his countenance as he said warmly, "Welcome home, brother."

Vash felt unbelievably queasy. While he silently stared into Knives' vibrant blue eyes, he saw numerous memories reflected in them. Rem taking them to the recreation room for picnics. The two of them discovering Tesla. Knives' admission to tampering with the ship's navigation. Humans fighting over water, and the sound of cruel laughter at the sight. Knives tackling him to the ground, hitting and kicking him before stripping him naked and thrusting inside of him. Tender kisses being placed on his face and various other places on his body. Knives explaining how there's a better chance of reproducing a plant like them if he mated with him more frequently. Crying and begging for Knives to stop, that it hurt too much and why hadn't the three times before in that same day been enough? Whispering "I love you"'s and "I'm sorry." Gentle hands caressing his skin before he allowed Knives to penetrate him. The sight of blood, furious shouting, the deafening noise of a gun being fired. Sudden agony engulfing him and the shock from seeing his severed arm lying on the ground next to him.

"How did the humans treat you? Did you enjoy your time with them?"

What Vash wanted to say in response to the first question was, "Some better than you," for he knew it would infuriate Knives to hear _any _human was better than him at something, but instead, he settled for, "There were some bad times, but for the most part, it was pretty fun." He smiled, though in his eyes, there was a myriad of emotions that didn't sync with the gesture: rage, compassion, and nostalgia.

"So….You've come to stop me, little brother?"

Steadily removing his silver revolver from its holster, he simply answered, "Yep."

Knives merely watched as Vash aimed the gun at him. Right as the shot was fired, he sprinted towards one of the boulders. Vash raced to another, shooting the other five rounds before diving behind it. Quickly, he reloaded and cautiously peered over the top. A bullet whizzed by, grazing his cheek. He unloaded the entire chamber in to the rock hiding Knives and then ducked down once more to replenish.

For a number of seconds, he stayed still, straining to hear any sign of movement. The sudden sound of footsteps in gravel caused him to run in the opposite direction. The two brothers fired rapidly at one another as they crossed the open area to take up shelter behind new boulders. The adrenaline coursing through Vash was almost unbearable; his heart thumped practically painfully in his chest and he was panting for air. His hands shook as he put new rounds in to the chamber; drops of sweat occasionally hindered his vision as they dripped down his face.

Deciding to make a move, he started low to the ground as he left the safety of his cover. In a matter of seconds, he was fully upright and headed for the boulder he had last seen Knives go behind. His cybernetic arm transformed and he began spraying the hard surface with bullets. When he arrived at the rock, he was dumbfounded; Knives wasn't there.

_Where is he?! I would've heard him! _

He glanced around frantically, guns leveled and ready to fire. All at once he saw something speed past him at an incredible rate before he cried out in pain and fell to his knees. Blood started seeping through his armor; his left thigh had been deeply stabbed.

_How?! How is he faster than me?! I've always been able to spot him whenever he used that ability! _

He rapidly crawled behind the boulder and attempted to calm himself somewhat; there was no time to dwell on the sting of the new wound or how Knives could've possibly enhanced his powers.

He roused at the noise of footsteps and shot blindly. There was a string of shouted curses, and he knew he had been successful in at least getting one round in Knives. A shower of bullets passed over his head, making him flatten against the ground. He crept away from the rock, spotted Knives, and fired. The ammunition hit the older twin in his left side, and he was knocked down. In a flash, the outlaw clad in red was on his feet and headed towards his brother.

Abruptly as if in the blink of an eye, Knives disappeared. Vash skidded to a stop, his eyes frenziedly scouring the area.

_How is that possible?! He's faster than ever; I can't even see him when he moves!_

There was no time to react. A decent amount of sand was suddenly thrown at his face, temporarily blinding him. He spun around in a circle, aiming and shooting and hoping for the best. A clenched fist that felt more like a solid brick collided with the side of his head, making him stumble and fall on to his back; the revolver flew out of his hand on the way down. He groaned as he was kicked with tremendous force, sprawling him on to his stomach. Weakly, he tried to get up but was once more struck by Knives' foot.

_What do I do?! What do I…._

He suddenly rolled on to his back and his right arm began to swell and grow. It was a last resort and the only idea that came to mind.

From somewhere above him, he heard Knives laugh. "I don't think so, Vash."

Vash screamed as the sharp blade protruding from Knives' arm sank in to his right bicep. It stabbed him clean through and even penetrated through the bedrock, pinning him to the ground. His angel arm deactivated and upon noticing him start to lift his bionic one to shoot, Knives ripped it from his body with incomprehensible strength.

"I think you've lost, dear brother," Knives reasoned coldly. He twisted the blade, causing Vash to yell in agony.

Vash watched his twin straddle him and sit on top of him through half-opened eyes. "Just get it over with then if that's what you're gonna do," he forced out through gritted teeth.

"And cut our reunion so short? No, that won't do. We've got much to catch up on! And I want you to experience this wonderful victory over humans with me."

Knives violently hit him several times before smashing the barrel of his gun against his brother's temple, rendering Vash unconscious. Retracting his personal weapon from the outlaw's arm, he leaned down and kissed Vash with intense passion.

"I've missed you," he whispered and got up. Without looking at the person who had come outside, he addressed him. "Take him to get cleaned up."

"Yes, Master," Legato replied.

"Now that he's here, we can set out soon again."

"Of course, Master."

* * *

><p>Riding on the way back to the city, Wolfwood felt like his mind was traveling at the speed his bike was. During the five hour trip, every thought and image was either of Vash or the children at the orphanage. The scenarios he imagined were never good and never ended well. Frequently, he pictured the Humanoid Typhoon crumpled on the ground, motionless and lying in his own blood. A number of bullets had torn up his body, and his countenance was beaten to hell and made him almost unrecognizable. The priest's knuckles turned white as he gripped the handlebars; the nightmarish fantasies wouldn't stop. He thought of the orphanage and saw members of The Eye of Michael spraying the building with their powerful weapons, envisioned the defenseless kids strewn about the wreckage pale and dead.<p>

He knew he had to somehow return to his old home outside of December as fast as possible; it was his duty to protect them.

_It was my duty to protect _him _too._

As he had driven away from the ship, he couldn't help but feel as if he were tossing Vash to a pack of hungry wolves and couldn't bear to stick around and watch as they devoured him.

_You just let him go….You idiot…._

"He'll be fine," he muttered. "He can handle himself….I didn't abandon him!"

He eased the motorcycle to a stop, lowered his head, and grasped a fistful of hair in each of his hands.

"_I didn't abandon him_!" he repeated indignantly as hot, clear droplets fell from his eyes. "There was nothing I could do! That stupid fool wouldn't let me!"

He cried freely, the emotional buildup at last washing over him like a tsunami. The extreme desire to turn around and run to Vash's aid ate away at him, yet he knew it would most likely be in vain. He was now four hours away.

"I'm sorry, Spikey….Why didn't you let me help you, you stubborn…._needle-noggin'?!_ You didn't have to go alone! You _never_ have to be alone ever again! _I love you, you idiot!"_

The words made his eyes widen and his heart seemingly skip a beat or two. Not until he admitted it aloud did the sentiment finally sink in fully.

_I love him….That bitch was right….And I couldn't say it to his face._

It was a long while before he continued onward to the city. By the time he arrived, evening was settling in. The first order of business he planned to take care of concerned the insurance girls. They were still residing at the same inn, and Meryl was instantly irritated at the sight of him when she opened the door to their room.

"Where the hell is he?!" she exclaimed.

Millie piped in before Wolfwood could answer. "Sorry, Mr. Priest. We're just a little worried about losing our jobs if we don't keep an eye on Mr. Vash. It's very important we know where he is."

"Vash the Stampede will no longer be a liability," he said soberly. "You can go back to your headquarters. There's no need to follow him anymore."

The two women detected the underlying grief laced in his voice and his expression. "What do you mean there's no need to follow him?" Meryl inquired hesitantly.

"Just that. In fact, he may no longer exist."

He walked away, paying no attention to them calling to him. As if in a trance, he shuffled along the side of the street. Absentmindedly, he successfully returned to the inn he and Vash had stayed at. He purchased a room and was soon lying on the bed in it. He was tired, though wasn't quite ready to sink in to sleep. After lighting a cigarette and taking a few puffs, he removed the yellow-tinted sunglasses from the inside pocket of his jacket. He gazed at them, turning them over as if noting every detail.

"_Something to remember me by, okay?"_

With a weighty sigh, he whispered, "Damn it, Vash….You _have _to beat him."

* * *

><p>While his brother was being stripped, Knives looked on in horror as more and more of Vash's bare skin was revealed. There was nothing to prepare him for it; the last he had known, his twin was absolute perfection and beauty. No mark had blemished the younger male's body; the two of them were both flawless. The longer Knives's eyes roamed over the immobile being lying on the table – noticing and memorizing every bolt, screw, scrap of metal, chunks of missing and mutilated flesh, and incision scars – the deeper his loathing for humans rooted itself within him. They had had the gall to disfigure something so impeccable….<p>

Knives clenched his fists and snarled in rage. _No one _was worthy of laying a single finger on Vash except for him; _no one _had earned the right to punish his younger brother except for him.

Once the Humanoid Typhoon's wounds were sanitized and bandaged, Knives dressed him in a pair of dark gray, draw-string pants from his own wardrobe; after all these years, they could still share the same clothes. Vash was transported to a small room, not much larger than a jail cell but like one in every other aspect; there was a sink, a toilet, a tiny barred window situated close to the ceiling, and a bed. A single light bulb dimly illuminated the area. After he was laid on top of the old mattress, Knives ordered, "Give us some time alone." His followers nodded in obedience and exited. "Legato," he called.

"Yes, Master," was the reply from the doorway.

"Keep him bound."

"It would be my pleasure," the humble servant stated with a wicked grin and closed the door.

Knives sat beside the unconscious gunman and removed from his pocket what appeared to be a handwritten letter he had found in the long red coat of the Humanoid Typhoon. After reading only a few lines of the note, he wanted to rip the pages to shreds. By the end of it, he wanted to slaughter Wolfwood, force Vash to watch as he did so, and then turn his attention to sadistically disciplining his dear brother. A cruel laugh resonated in the dank room as he imagined the scenario.

"_Knives stop!" Vash screamed through his sobs. "STOP! PLEASE!"_

_He struggled to free himself from the men restraining him, desperate to save his lover from any more attacks. Wolfwood lay soaked in blood, his breathing raspy and shallow. An obscene amount of stab wounds covered his body. The person responsible for them hovered over him with a callous smirk._

"_Knives….Please. I'll do anything. Just don't hurt him anymore. Please," Vash pleaded helplessly. "Please…."_

_With wide, devastated eyes, Vash gazed at Wolfwood, who let his head fall to the side to stare at his partner and offered a feeble smile. _

"_I love y-"_

_A heart-wrenching shriek erupted from Vash's mouth. He went limp, and the men keeping him contained released his arms, letting him collapse to the ground in a pathetic, sobbing heap. _

"_No," he gasped. "Wolfy….NO! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?!" _

_A hand tugged on his hair, forcing him to look up. The sight that met his eyes made him vomit. Held in front of him was Wolfwood's severed head. _

"_Take a good look, dear brother," Knives cooed. "This is because of you. _You _did this."_

_Vash wiped his mouth, closed his eyes, and shook his head. "No….No…." he protested faintly. _

"_It's _your _fault!"_

"_No!"_

"_You just had to fuck him, didn't you? THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?! YOU ARE _MINE!"

_Knives struck his brother with the back of his hand, knocking him completely to the ground. He ripped Vash's clothes off and yanked the man's head up by his spiked locks. _

"_No, please….Please don't," Vash begged pitifully. "Please, Knives."_

_A choked cry sounded from him as Knives forced himself into his body. _

"_Stop….please….Wolfy…."_

Knives sighed and fidgeted a bit from having become immensely aroused. He stuffed the letter back in to his pocket and stared at his brother with severe disapproval.

"Your love of humans goes too far, Vash. You disgust me."

He glided his fingers over the gunman's chest, down his abdomen, and stopped at the sensitive area between his legs. Without any inhibition, Knives began rubbing and kneading the flaccid member; the enjoyment it provided him with made his eyes flutter shut momentarily and a pleased noise to come from his closed mouth. In Vash's unconscious state, the sensation of arousal seemed to reach him, for he emitted a soft moan; it instantly caused Knives to echo it and made his own erection throb more. He hadn't had anyone other than his twin, had refused to contaminate himself with a human's intimacy.

And now, after almost eight decades, Vash had returned to him. This time, he would not be letting his brother go so easily. Knives still considered him an equal because he was a plant and he was his twin, but Vash would be required to submit and serve him; it would be for Vash's own good.

Knives suddenly struck the other male in the groin with a clenched fist, jolting Vash awake with a yelp. The outlaw curled up on his side and gently cupped the area. As if the torment from that wasn't enough, his head started to pulsate excruciatingly; to make it even worse, his leg and arm were in serious pain as well .

"Son of a…." he hissed. At the sound of smug snickering, Vash turned his head slightly in order to be able to glare at his brother.

"It's about time you woke up, don't you think? Feeling better?" Knives questioned with enormous sarcasm.

Vash snarled somewhat, though said nothing.

"I'm completely disappointed in you, Vash."

"So what else has changed in seventy-four years?"

"Apparently not your stupidity! Look at you! _This _is how the humans treat you?! _Destroying _you?! When will you learn they can't be trusted?!"

"They're not all the same!" He sat up, having recovered for the most part from the severe discomfort between his legs. "Not all humans are despicable beings like you think! Many have treated me very well."

Knives smirked. "Yes, I'm aware of that."

An expression of suspicion and confusion clouded Vash's features as he observed Knives stand and walk to the opposite side of the room. It morphed to one of bewilderment as Knives removed from his pocket what the gunman recognized as his letter to Wolfwood. He tried to swallow the embarrassment that came over him.

"Where did you get that?" he asked indifferently, though he knew Knives could see right through his feigned casualness.

"Found it in your coat." The older twin turned the folded pages over and over again with his fingers.

Struggling to get to his feet, Vash inquired quietly, "Did you read it?" yet he was sure of the answer; the unmistakable condemnation and abhorrence in the blue eyes told everything. Limping forward a few steps, Vash growled, "It wasn't addressed to you."

"No, it wasn't, was it? I believe it was meant for a Nicholas D. Wolfwood. Or better yet, someone known by the ridiculous pet name 'Wolfy.' I personally know him as Chapel – member of the Gung Ho Guns."

"I know….I know of his contract with you."

"I don't remember putting in that contract any mention of fucking the target, which was you."

Vash wanted to glance away from the piercing, hateful stare, but refused to show any sign of weakness. Instead, a malicious smile crept on to his face. "Maybe you'll remember for next time."

The outlaw straightened his posture as his brother approached him swiftly. The slap was more powerful than he had anticipated, yet he remained standing. His cheek stung unbearably, an angry red imprint of Knives' hand staining his skin temporarily, and his eyes brimmed with tears. He kept his head turned away even as Knives started to speak.

"You are a plant. You're a superior being. Don't go giving away what no human has the right to have."

Slowly, Vash met his twin's gaze. "Because only you deserve it, right?" he inquired disdainfully.

"I will not allow my brother to be a preacher's whore!"

The blow knocked Vash to the side and on to the floor. He let out a small groan, detesting the taste of blood that leaked from his nose and lip. There was no time to recover as Knives continued to pummel him with his fists, the hits raining down everywhere on him.

After a minute or so, Knives finished by kicking his twin in the stomach twice. Vash stayed where he was, in a fetal position on the cold floor. Brilliant bruises were already starting to show on his skin; blood trickled down his countenance from his hair line, nostrils, and mouth. The bandages around his arm and leg were soaked through with fresh blood as well. Tiny noises of anguish mixed together with his uneven breaths.

"Do you really think he even loves you in return, little brother?" Knives mocked. "Even if he said he did, humans are fickle. It won't be long until he finds some other _human _that catches his fancy and tosses you away like garbage."

"No," Vash replied in almost a whisper.

"What did you say?"

"He's not like that. He wouldn't do that."

A shaky whimper came from Vash as he was hoisted up by his hair. He grimaced and hurriedly tried to stand. Once he was on his feet, the hand that had grabbed hold of his spiked locks moved to close around his neck. Displaying a great deal of strength, Knives lifted Vash entirely off the ground, eliciting choked noises and gasps from the gunman. If he had had his other arm, Vash knew there was a good chance he would've been able to free himself from Knives' iron grasp. He attempted to pry his brother's fingers from his throat, but it was of no use.

"You just don't get it, do you, Vash? Having simply observed humans from a distance, I seem to know more about them than you do. All those years you spent living among them – wasted. Humans betray humans. They have no interest in helping another unless it benefits them. It's in their nature to steal, fight, and kill for what they want. And love…." Knives chortled contemptuously. "It's nothing but a fleeting emotion. But you and me, us plants, we're nothing like them. You want a world free of all that, don't you? That's what you've wanted all along, isn't it? Where everyone treats everyone with kindness? I will give you that world; it's been my intent ever since we landed on this planet. In order to do that, the humans must be terminated."

The moment he was finished speaking, he released his twin, who fell to the floor limply. Vash coughed and wheezed, lightly rubbing the area Knives had clutched. It was a few minutes before he felt strong enough to stand up and gaze at his brother.

Without any sort of explanation, Vash began to laugh bitterly.

"What's so damn funny?" Knives asked, irritated.

"It's just…." The outlaw calmed himself and was able to state steadily, "He was more like a brother to me than you ever were." The dilated, infuriated eyes didn't stop him from continuing. "And he fucked me better than you ever could."

For several seconds, Vash felt a tinge of victory; it appeared that he had stunned his twin beyond words and actions. The other man merely stared at him, mouth agape, and immensely livid.

All at once, Vash was hurled against the wall with enough force to cause the hard surface to crack. The collision almost reduced him to unconsciousness. He yelped as he was dragged by his hair to the bed. Forcibly, he was lifted to his feet only to be shoved on to the mattress. His head was cloudy and aching terribly, yet he was able to comprehend what was about to occur. He began kicking and pushing Knives away as his brother climbed atop him, but his efforts were in vain. The older twin smacked him, which made him cease his attempts.

"Why don't we see who's better then, hm?!" Knives bellowed madly.

He untied and pulled off the gunman's only piece of clothing, spread the male's legs apart, and situated himself between them. After he lowered his black slacks to free his hard member, he wet his erection with lubricant from a small bottle he had stowed in one of his pockets. Vash tried crawling backward, out from under his brother, though was quickly pinned down to the bed. Defiantly, he stared up at his twin; the arrogant grin Knives wore enraged him to the point where he abruptly launched a wad of spit and blood at the other man's face.

_He's got some fight in him, _Knives thought, somewhat annoyed, yet found it arousing at the same time. _He's grown bolder since the last time. _

Fiercely, Knives slapped his brother and sheathed his cock inside of Vash in one thrust. Vash wailed in pain, feeling as if Knives tore his muscles from the brutal penetration. There was no grace period to let him acclimate, nor did the older twin proceed leisurely like Wolfwood had. Over and over again, Knives withdrew from his body until only the head of his erection remained within him before he shoved himself completely into the outlaw once more. Each propulsion elicited a muffled whimper, for Vash bit his lip and tried to stay as quiet as possible; he didn't want Knives to have the satisfaction of hearing any of his vocals.

"Is this better?!" Knives taunted, pounding in to him savagely.

Vash turned his head away and closed his eyes; a few clear droplets spilled from the corners of them. He panted with his brother, clawed at the single sheet covering the mattress.

_Wolfy….I really messed up…. _

Vash made a noise of protest as Knives gripped his chin, forced him to look at him, and kissed him. Knives' lips attacked his vehemently; he squealed in surprise as the older twin's tongue intruded in to his mouth and danced with his own.

…_.I wish you were here….I'm sorry…._

Knives' pace became faster, causing Vash to inwardly breathe a sigh of relief from knowing it would be over shortly. The moans of pleasure Knives made were lost within the gunman's mouth as he unrelentingly kissed his unwilling partner.

It was a number of minutes later when Knives finally ejaculated, buried inside of his brother. Vash hissed and grunted from the countless slow, powerful thrusts Knives continued to do. He yearned to shove the other male off of him, especially now that Knives had spilled himself in him, but decided against it. What was the point of fighting anymore? In the shape he was currently in, he knew it wasn't worth garnering any new wounds or bruises.

At last, Vash's tense body relaxed as his assaulter pulled out and got up. His chest heaved as he breathed weightily; sweat blanketed his skin. He swallowed hard and gazed at the ceiling. There was no reaction from him as gentle fingertips ghosted over his cheek and lips. Knives caressed him tenderly for a short period before he walked away.

"Welcome home, dear brother," Knives stated tartly and exited the room.

Empty, lifeless green eyes were overcome with tears. Curling up on his left side, Vash hugged his knees to his chest and began to weep softly.

"I'm sorry, Wolfy," he choked out in a whisper. "Rem….I let you down….I let you all down….Everyone…." He buried his face and embraced himself more tightly. "I'm sorry."


	6. Brotherly Love

Beams of sunlight poured in through the window, warming the person who was starting to wake up. The last thing he had known, it had been night; he didn't feel like he had gotten any sleep.

Wolfwood slid his hand to the side, hoping to feel his friend lying next to him, but there was no one. The same sentiment resonated within him as he showered; he half-expected the lively blonde to pull back the curtain, happily chirp "Morning, Wolfy! Mind if I join you?", and step in to the tub to bathe with him.

_It's not a dream. He's really gone. _

After he got dressed, ate breakfast, and purchased some items for the long ride ahead of him, he headed to his motorcycle to load up. Something in the side car made him stare quizzically at it for a moment before the realization of what it was sank in and his heart fell.

It was Vash the Stampede's duffle bag. Apart from what Vash had been wearing, it contained everything the outlaw owned. Wolfwood ran his fingers over the material for a minute, thinking of the infamous gunman's face and hearing his laugh. His lips quirked upward as memories filtered through his mind in fragments.

"I hope you won, Spikey," he mumbled.

It wasn't long before he tore out of town, preparing for his own battle awaiting him.

* * *

><p>It had been a restless night for Vash. There had been no sleep, only thoughts and memories incessantly playing in his head that kept him awake. He had studied his enclosure thoroughly, looking for any way out and found nothing.<p>

Currently, he was seated cross-legged on the bed, elbow on his knee, and his face buried in his hand. He didn't stir upon hearing the door open, nor did he steal a glance to see who it was. The person sat beside him and remained silent, and Vash could hear the quiet noise of metal clinking against metal. Still displaying no sign of interest, he continued to keep his gaze fixated on the floor. It wasn't until he felt something cold and somewhat heavy snake around his neck and clasp around it that he showed signs of life. He touched the metal collar, tried pulling it off, and glared angrily at his brother.

"What is this?" he asked irritably.

"A way to keep track of you whenever I let you out."

Vash saw the metal chain in Knives' hand and his eyes followed the length of it to discover it was attached to his new accessory. "A leash? You really think this is necessary?" He felt as if he were being treated like a wild animal; it was a sentiment he had experienced before among humans whenever they figured out who he was, yet this was taking it too far.

"Think of it as a precaution. Now come on. There are some things I'd like to show you."

Even though Vash got up and started limping behind his twin, Knives tugged on the chain and grinned in amusement from Vash losing his balance and almost falling face-first to the floor. The older brother led him through various rooms and hallways; as they walked down one of the corridors, numerous doors lined both sides. Standing in the entry ways were men who bowed as Knives passed.

"I thought you didn't trust humans," Vash stated blankly, aware that the people were staring at him with disdain and some had expressions of slight repulsion from the sight of his bare torso.

"I don't. But these men have at least demonstrated their value in helping me for the cause; in exchange for sparing their lives, they've sworn allegiance to me."

"Doesn't that go against what you want? Exterminating humans?"

"I didn't say I'd spare their lives forever."

They at last came to a pair of large metal doors. Whatever was behind them, Vash had a hunch it was important. He was proven right as Knives took him inside. It was a vast, relatively empty space; within it was a giant light bulb.

"The plant of Augusta," Knives announced proudly. "It will be moved and kept on our base ship, along with all the others we will eventually gather."

Not until Vash saw the plant did the gravity of Knives' actions sink in. There was now a city filled with helpless, anxious, frightened people left wondering what to do, where to go. It tore Vash's heart. "Knives…." He wasn't sure what to say. He was shocked his brother had actually done it. They were no longer cruel ideas festering in Knives' head; he had finally acted on them and had been successful.

"Impressive, isn't it? We'll be taking off tomorrow for May City."

"Taking off?"

"You're no longer on the vessel you came to meet me at; that is where we're storing the plants. I call this one the Ark; it's been integral in the operation."

Vash at last turned his focus from the plant to his brother. "You can't do this….You have to stop! People will suffer!"

"And they should! Do you forget what they did to one of our own?!"

"I will never, _never _forget….But we can forgive them and try to live in peace with them! The ticket to the future is always blank! Just give them a chance! Please!"

"Don't you get it?! If they find out what you are, they will exploit you and eventually destroy you, just like they did to her! I'm doing this for _us!"_

Vash blinked several times before shaking his head slowly. "I don't want this," he spoke quietly.

"You may not want it, but it's what is needed for us to survive."

"That's not true. It doesn't have to be like this. They are _not _our enemies!"

Knives grabbed hold of his twin's upper arms; the firm grip made Vash wince. "Why do you continue to sympathize with them?! _Why do you fight to protect them?! _They've done nothing but hunt you and harm you!_"_

In a low, even tone Vash stated bluntly, "You know why."

Knives dug his fingernails in to the other male's skin, causing the outlaw to let out a soft whine. "You still live by her ridiculous teachings? She sullied your mind with her pathetic ramblings. I've got my work cut out for me to make you see things _my _way."

Vash didn't reply, and after a brief period of staring at one another irately, Knives released his brother. He started towards a door on the other side of the area; Vash followed obediently behind him. It led to another expansive room, however this one wasn't empty. Lining the walls were dozens upon dozens of glass capsules. Vash couldn't discern what was in them, yet he knew the contents.

"Say hello to your sisters," Knives confirmed, strolling to the center of the area.

The gunman's eyes were wide and alight with awe as he leisurely glanced around.

"There's more, just not here. These ones are helping by powering the Ark."

"Isn't that like the humans? Using them for your own gain?"

Knives chuckled contemptuously. "Hardly. They're aiding me in saving the others by granting me the use of this craft. Without them, it would be much more difficult to collect the others."

Vash ventured to one of the pods and peered in somewhat apprehensively. He could sense the energy radiating from the ethereal being; it was almost too much to bear. All at once, he cringed as if in pain due to the crushing feeling of intense fury emanating from the plant contained within the capsule.

_So much anger, _he thought sorrowfully. _Why? _He placed his hand on the glass and closed his eyes. _"There's no need to be so riled up. It's okay," _he communicated telepathically.

The exquisite being opened her eyes and gazed at Vash, prompting him to do the same. He offered a gentle smile, hoping it would soothe her.

"_It's okay. There's nothing to fear, no need to be upset."_

The plant raised her hand and pressed it against the blonde's.

"_Hello there." _

Just as he started to feel the plant's rage subside, the emotion abruptly ignited once more, leaving Vash to frenziedly stare at the agitated being.

"_What's wrong?!"_

He jumped in surprise at Knives resting a hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong? Why is she like this?" he inquired worriedly.

"Maybe she's aware of how the humans would treat her, how they're treating and using the others right now."

Green eyes darted back and forth between Knives' cold expression and the glowering plant. He suddenly made the connection. "_You _did this. You fed them lies, turned them against humans for your selfish plans!"

"I explained to them the truth. As long as they're alive, they will _never _be a slave to humans; they'll decimate them before that happens."

"Knives….Please. You have to end this. I'm begging you."

The older twin brushed his fingertips along his brother's cheek. "Sorry, Vash," he insincerely apologized with a smirk. "You've lost, which means humanity has lost."

"Please, I'll do anything. I'll remain with you and do whatever you want me to, just don't hurt any more people."

"Always the martyr, willing to sacrifice yourself for those who don't deserve it. Such a waste."

Knives roughly drug his brother out of the room by his leash and escorted him to yet another area. This one was quite small in contrast to the other two spaces. As they crossed through to the opposite wall, Vash noted a long grate that covered what looked like a containment cell lengthy and deep enough to contain a person lying down.

"The hole," Knives said, noticing the blonde staring at it. "Behave yourself and you might not end up in it."

Once they reached the wall, Vash gave no fight as Knives lifted his arm and locked a metal cuff around his wrist. There wasn't much slack in the chain that hung from the ceiling; there'd be no sitting, let alone kneeling, or bending his arm.

"Comfortable?"

The outlaw smiled bitterly. "Oh yeah, never felt better," he answered cheerfully, yet his green eyes were blazing with resentment. "I _am_ kinda hungry though. Any chance I could get somethin' to eat?"

His brother regarded him coolly and grinned. "Let me see what I've got for you."

"Do you take requests?"

"Sorry, I don't."

The expression on Vash's countenance morphed to one of feigned disappointment. "Aw, really?"

The two of them held eye contact, sizing one another up and waiting for the other to back down. After a minute or so, Knives walked away without a word; it didn't make Vash feel victorious, however. Bowing his head, he sighed and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"What am I gonna do?" he muttered aloud. "There has to be _something_, _some _way….If only you were here, Wolfwood….I really hope you're okay." He remembered how the priest had assured him he'd be there after it was over; Knives had made no mention of Wolfwood being taken prisoner and judging by the reaction he had had from reading the letter, Vash was certain his twin would've told him what became of the preacher if anything had happened. Instead of dwelling on his comrade's possible death, he chose to believe the man had gotten away safely.

Breathing in deeply, he rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.

"So…." he began to sing softly, "Hitotsu-me no yoru ni,

Izuko kara koishi ga sekai ni ochiru.

So...futatsu-me no yoru ni,

Koishi no ko ga te wo tori warutsu wo kaku.

Sound life."

His eyes flew open at his brother singing the last two words with him.

With an optimistic smile and jade eyes wide with joy, he said happily, "You remember it."

As Knives approached, Vash could barely discern the hint of a genuine smile on his countenance. It made the Humanoid Typhoon's heart beat faster, and he felt flutters in his stomach. Maybe his twin wasn't wholly gone after all.

"How could I forget it? She sang it almost every day," Knives stated plainly, setting the plate and cup he had brought down on the floor.

Giving a light laugh, Vash replied, "Yeah, she did, didn't she?"

"I remember she used to sing it to you sometimes to help you go to sleep. And whenever you woke up from a nightmare, I'd sing it to you to help calm you down."

"It still helps me." There was a pause before Vash prodded, "Do you ever think about that time? You, me, Rem, the crew….I miss it."

"Yes, I think about it sometimes….Mostly, I think about you."

"You do?"

"I'd wonder where you were, if you were safe." Knives put his hands on the other man's hips and stepped closer. "I really missed you, Vash."

"I missed you too."

Knives enveloped the blonde in his arms and held him comfortingly. Vash closed his eyes, nuzzled his face against his brother's neck, and yearned to have his wrist free from its restraints in order to hug his twin.

"I love you," Knives whispered.

A tear raced down the gunman's cheek as he confessed, "I love you too."

After a lengthy moment, Knives pulled away, picked up the plate, and held one of the pieces of buttered toast in front of Vash's mouth. Accepting the offer, Vash took a bite and made no complaints about being fed by his brother. When he finished the two slices, Knives put the rim of the cup against the blonde's lips and waited patiently for him to drink almost half of the water in the glass.

"Thanks," Vash said gratefully. "I really needed that. But for the next time, can you make it a box of donuts?"

Knives' usually stony expression softened, and Vash's heart swelled excitedly from the feeling of having his brother again, not the calloused person the blue-eyed man had become. "I'll see what I can do."

"So….how long are you planning on keeping me tied up like this?"

The sudden closeness of his twin and the hint of sadness in the man's eyes caused Vash to flatten himself against the wall. He kept his gaze locked with Knives', refusing to glance away even as the older twin rested one hand on his cheek and the other on his lower backside.

"Knives….It's not too late," he murmured. "You can end this right now. We can start over. You and me, like we always said." His eyelids fluttered shut from the pleasant sensation of Knives' face rubbing against his neck, breathing in his scent.

"There's no starting over, Vash. No going back."

"I can't accept that. The future is blank; you can write a new one."

"Still an optimist, huh? Even after everything that's happened to you?"

"It's in my nature. What else can I do except hope that the next day is better than the previous? I don't want to be a hostage to grief and anger."

Vash turned his head slightly, prompting Knives to stare at him directly. A kind smile brightened his countenance before Knives started to kiss him longingly. The hands caressing his torso and touching his cheek were so amazingly gentle in comparison to the day before, Vash wasn't sure how to handle it; his emotions were firing in various directions. There was no denying the delight he had for gaining positive attention from his brother – and the fact that it felt like Knives was his former self before everything had turned sour. As they continued to kiss one another voraciously, hands moving over his skin as if re-discovering his body, Vash loved having his twin like this again – like the old times when it was only the two of them.

The gunman tilted his head back and inhaled sharply at the fingers sliding down behind the waistband of his clothing and stroking his cock. Knives wasted no time in attacking Vash's exposed neck with his lips and tongue. A dark spot remained on the blonde's throat after a minute of Knives sucking on it.

"Feeling good?" Knives breathed in his brother's ear.

Vash's eyes were shut tightly, his knees weak from the ecstasy caused by the other male's fingers massaging his erection. "Yeah," he forced out. When he felt the drawstring being undone on his pants and before Knives could remove the garment, he stepped to the side and shook his head. "No, don't."

Knives licked upward from his twin's neck until he reached his ear. "Why not?"

"I just….don't want to, okay?"

"I promise I'll be gentler this time. I'm sorry for yesterday." Noticing the uncertainty in the green eyes, he urged tenderly, "Come on, Vash."

"No….just don't. Please."

"I can feel you want it, though." He gave the man's hard member a light squeeze to emphasize his statement.

Vash blushed and glanced downward at the ground.

"Please let me."

It was a number of seconds later when the blonde acquiesced. "Okay."

The younger plant kept his focus on the floor as the blue-eyed male stripped them both and slicked his cock with lube. Vash wrapped his legs around Knives' waist and waited. His muscles were still rather sore from how rough he had been penetrated and abused the previous day, making him concerned about how badly it would hurt this time. It was a consoling surprise when he felt Knives enter him incredibly slowly; there was discomfort, but he found himself suddenly not caring. He and Knives were finally one; in his mind, they were at last sharing their love for each other like they used to so many years ago.

_I didn't think I'd ever feel this way again with him, _Vash thought contently. _I really missed him. Maybe there's still a chance, still hope he can change._

He moaned and a number of tears leaked from his eyes at the first upward thrust Knives made. His gaze locked with his brother's; the affection written in the azure eyes made him quiver, and he leaned forward to kiss him. Uncontrollable whimpers sounded from him as Knives propelled himself in and out of his body leisurely. A hand inched along his arm up towards his own; once it reached his, he laced his fingers with his twin's and clutched tightly.

"_Knives," _Vash expressed mentally. _"I love you."_

The older twin flicked his tongue against the other male's lips. _"I love you too. I won't let you go again."_

They broke away from one another's mouths, breathing heavily and hearts racing. All at once, Vash cried out loudly in indescribable rapture; he shook and bit his twin's shoulder to smother his boisterous moaning from Knives hitting his prostate. It was nothing like he had ever experienced. He felt as if he couldn't handle it, the extremely pleasurable stimulation, but pined for it nonetheless. There was a sense that he was losing control of his body, despite the fact that he could do nothing more than tighten his legs around his brother. He wildly moaned with every thrust, drowning out the animalistic noises his twin made.

"_I want you to be mine….Let me make you mine," _Knives said and after another minute or so, he went rigid as he came.

Vash rested his head on the other man's shoulder, shuddering at the sensation of the warm fluid filling him. For a long while, they stayed the way they were, waiting to drift down from the blissful high they were on. As Vash recovered, the pain he had had before in his arm returned, along with the feeling of it being cold and tingly.

"Can you take this thing off me?" he asked quietly, voice trembling slightly. He wished to go lie down in bed and continue being held close by his brother; the physical act made him feel utterly drained.

Without a word, Knives kissed him, withdrew from his body, unhooked the scarred legs from around his waist and helped him regain his footing to stand, then dressed him. After tying the drawstring of the blonde's pants, Knives put on his own clothes and started towards the door.

"Knives? Where you going?"

There was no answer other than the sound of the entrance closing. Vash's mouth remained agape from being absolutely stunned, his eyes brimming with sincere hurt. He suddenly felt unbelievably dirty at the sense of being used and from feeling his brother's seed trickling out of him and down the back of his leg.

With his head lowered in shame, he attempted to lose himself in sleep.

* * *

><p>"Bartender, another please."<p>

"You sure are drinking an awful lot for it being only mid-afternoon."

Wolfwood put out his cigarette in the nearby ashtray and shrugged. "What difference does it make what time of day it is? Any time's a good time to drink, if you ask me."

"Fair enough."

The bartender poured him another shot of vodka. Wolfwood took it in his hand, though didn't drink it right away. He stared vacantly ahead of him, listening and picking up on people's conversations around him. One in particular suddenly caught his attention.

"It's been oddly quiet don't you think, Ned? No sightings or nothin' of the Humanoid Typhoon."

"I hear ya. You think someone finally caught him? Someone actually caught Vash the Stampede?"

"Nah, we would've heard; they'd announce if the bounty had been claimed. It's just weird."

"Think he's dead?"

"Don't know, but I do know one thing for sure: it'd do us all a lot of good if he was."

"If you ask me, death is too kind for him. After all he's done, he deserves to suffer. I hope whoever catches him tortures the hell out of him; at least then he can finally know pain like he's caused all of us."

Wolfwood's grip on the shot glass had gotten so strong, the cup abruptly shattered in his hand. Several people turned to look at him, causing him to grin and laugh innocently.

"Oops," he said meekly. "My apologies."

"You okay, mister?" the bartender inquired, obviously shocked at the fact that this priest just crushed a glass with his bare hand.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just lost a close friend recently is all."

"I'm sorry to hear that. My condolences, Father."

"Thank you."

"Listen, don't worry about paying. It's on the house."

"That's very kind of you. I appreciate it."

"Sure thing."

The preacher's ears focused on the two men talking behind him once more.

"Can you believe that news out of Augusta?"

"About their plant being taken? Just like Gasback did back in Macca City last year. Nobody's been able to locate it yet."

"They say some gigantic sort of aircraft came and a group of about thirty men tore through town killin' anyone that got in the way and razing it to the ground."

"Maybe Vash the Stampede was the mastermind behind it. Now he's layin' low until things settle down."

"Could be."

It took all of Wolfwood's restraint to keep himself from slamming his fist down on the men's table and telling them Vash would never do anything to hurt anyone. And that at this very moment, the Humanoid Typhoon everyone so loathed was either still fighting to save them all or had died trying.

Thanking the bartender again for the free drinks, Wolfwood exited the saloon and started off on his motorcycle; he hoped to be in the next town over by nightfall.

* * *

><p>"<em>Hey, Vash. What's wrong? Why are you crying?"<em>

_Knives crawled under the blanket to lie next to his brother in bed and stroked the blonde locks in a comforting gesture._

"_I'm scared," Vash voiced in almost a whisper._

"_Why?"_

"_What if the humans don't accept us? What if they think we're just freaks of nature?"_

"_Come on, Vash. You can't think like that. I'm sure we'll fit right in."_

"_You think so?"_

"_Sure, why not? And if for some reason they don't like us, we still have each other, okay?"_

"_Okay."_

_Knives hugged him and rubbed his back affectionately. "We'll always have each other."_

"_Promise?"_

"_Promise."_

A set of voices sounded from off in the distance, rousing Vash from his dream. Everything appeared foggy, blurred together, and the words the people were exchanging were faint and almost distorted. He was breathing raggedly, covered in sweat, and his arm had gone numb; at the moment his wrist was enduring all of his weight, for his legs had buckled under him.

He had been confined to the one spot for almost ten hours.

The conversation seemed to be between Knives and someone else, though he couldn't be sure; his head was spinning, he couldn't comprehend what was being said.

"I want him to do it at least once. If not for May, then for the next one."

"He's fired it two times before, correct?"

"Yes. The sign of his depletion is at last revealing itself. Will you be able to determine how much he has left?"

"Should be able to. Just bring him in and we can have a look."

Even though he lifted his head to see who was coming towards him, his vision was terribly impaired for the time being; he had no idea who the person was, but found himself entirely grateful for the stranger as the metal cuff was unlocked from around his wrist. The person supported him while his arm was very slowly lowered. Little by little, he could feel the blood begin to circulate in his limb again.

It was a couple of minutes before his arm hung at his side once more; he tried to thank his rescuer, but only incoherent mumbles escaped from his throat. He put up no fight as he was swept in to the person's arms and carried out of the room. Inhaling deeply, he recognized his brother's scent.

"_Knives?" _

"_What is it, dear brother?"_

"_I'm so exhausted. And hungry."_

"_You'll be able to rest comfortably soon."_

"_I don't feel good."_

"_You'll be fine."_

Vash gasped at how cold the metal table felt against his naked torso. Leather straps buckled over his knees and his abdomen. The harsh, bright lights made him squint and his eyes water. As his arm was pulled to stretch out beside him on another hard surface, he silently asked, _"Knives, what's going on?" _His tone conveyed a hint of panic.

"_Everything is alright. Just stay still and it'll be okay."_

The younger plant winced and softly whimpered as various needles punctured through the skin of his arm in a number of spots. He grew restless and frightened; his legs worked to free themselves from the restraints.

"No," he was able to say. "No. Don't. Stop."

"Give him a sedative."

A large needle suddenly sank in to the side of his neck, causing him to hiss in pain. It was almost instantaneous, the effects of whatever had been pumped in to him. He went limp, the only movement being his head consistently turning from left to right; unintelligible noises came from his slightly opened mouth.

"Well, doctor? What can you tell?"

"From what the probes are reading, he's still got quite an amount of energy left. If he had used his abilities to heal his body, he would be over half depleted by now."

"How many more times can he use the weapon?"

"I would say two, three at the most. The next time his arm activates, his hair should start darkening more rapidly."

"Would I be able to absorb him?"

"I think you'd be overwhelmed. Even after all the other plants you've already absorbed, they still aren't as powerful as the energy he possesses."

Knives stared at his twin, who continued to mutter to himself in his hazy, drugged state. "What if we tried impregnation again? Now that we have him, we can use his sperm this time to inject in to one of them."

"You can try."

Knives pondered the idea for a few minutes, regarding his brother intently. He had attempted once before with his own in hopes of reproducing another plant with free-will, yet had been met with no success; perhaps Vash contained something he didn't.

"I'll send someone to come get a cup of it," he decided. He moved to stand beside the gunman and traced his thumb along his twin's cheek. _"Vash."_

"_..."_

"_Vash."_

The blonde was too dazed to answer. He had no clue what was happening around him, but a number of minutes later, he _did _register that someone was fondling him in order to get him aroused. Indiscernible objections sounded from him, and he tried to get away from the hand pleasuring him, but the straps kept him pinned and his whole being felt as if it weighed as much as the moon. Humiliation settled in as his body reacted positively to whoever was touching him. There was nothing he could do to withhold what the person wanted.

Not until he finally ejaculated did he slip into unconsciousness due to the heavy sedative and extreme fatigue.

* * *

><p>It was around midnight when Wolfwood arrived at the next city; there were still several separating him from December, yet by his estimation, he would be there within five days.<p>

_I just hope I'm not too late for whatever they have planned._

Currently, he was opening the Humanoid Typhoon's duffle bag to sort through the man's belongings. There were a few pairs of boxers and pants, a pair of jeans, socks, a couple of shirts and tank tops, a spare set of full body armor, a worn and tattered brown thin blanket that seemed rather out of place to have, and some toiletries. Nothing special or spectacular, though it was to be expected; the less weight to carry, the easier it was to travel.

Near the bottom of the bag, he felt an object that wasn't clothing. Frowning, he removed the item and grinned fondly upon discovering what it was: a cheap picture frame that contained a photo of Meryl, Millie, himself, and Vash.

"Well I'll be damned," he muttered.

He remembered the day it was taken. The four of them had gone to a local festival with various carnival games and the like. Millie had been the one to spot the photographer and insisted they get their picture taken. Meryl and himself were less than thrilled at the idea, but Vash and Millie wouldn't take "no" for an answer. Vash had his arm slung across Wolfwood's shoulders, and Millie had hers around the preacher and Meryl.

Wolfwood chuckled at the fact he and Meryl shared similar expressions of annoyance, while the other two had the biggest smiles on their faces. He had no idea Vash had purchased a print of the photo, let alone cherished it enough to carry it with him all of these many months later. Absentmindedly, his fingertips gently glided against the glass over Vash's figure.

He didn't realize he was crying until a tear splashed on to the frame.

Hurriedly, he wiped his eyes and set the picture on the table along with the Humanoid Typhoon's sunglasses. He packed everything away except for one of the man's shirts. He held it to his face and breathed in; Vash's scent still lingered on the fabric, arousing him and saddening him at the same time.

"Lord," he began quietly. "I've never asked for much. I have my sins; I've made mistakes. But if you could do something for me….Please protect him. Give him your strength. And if he's already passed….I ask that I'll be able to find his body and give him a proper burial….Amen."

When he fell asleep, the shirt was lying beside him with his hand weakly clutching it lovingly.

* * *

><p>"Rem….Rem….Wolfy…."<p>

His eyelids felt heavy as he awoke, eagerly anticipating Wolfwood or Rem to be beside him. There was nothing but a wall.

"Where am I? Was it all a dream?"

Vash rolled on to his back, sighed, and reached upward toward the ceiling.

"You both were so close….I don't want to be alone." He blinked a number of times, letting tears trickle out from the corners of his eyes. "What should I do? Please tell me. I don't know anymore." Retracting his hand from the air above him, he closed his eyes and rested his arm across his chest as if to hug himself. "I feel so useless….so weak….I let everyone down. I failed."

Slowly, he moved to lie on his side; the thin ray of sunshine that came through the window on the opposite side of the room illuminated the area enough for him to discern where he was. He had been returned to the cell he had woken up in after his fight with Knives.

_This isn't a dream. He has me._

He bent his knees and held them to his chest, shaking as he started to cry harder.

"Help me….help me see a way out. Or a way to stop him. There has to be something I can do….I wish you were here….both of you…."

The sound of the door being unlocked made him hastily wipe the tears from his face and sit up. A puzzled expression swept over his features as a man he had never seen before entered. He was curious to know who this person was, but upon spotting what the stranger had brought, his attention was instantly focused on it instead: a plate with a sandwich on it. Not until he saw the food did he realize how starved he felt. The moment the dish was placed in front of him, he said a quick "thank you" and commenced devouring the salmon sandwich in less than a minute. Once it was gone, he immediately wanted more; it hadn't been enough to get rid of the empty feeling in his stomach.

"Why couldn't there be more?" he whined. "I'm so hungry. My poor belly is really aching! Surely they could give me another one."

He groaned and rubbed his abdomen for a minute or so then got to his feet. After using the facilities and doing his best to wash his one hand, he splashed some water onto his face a couple of times and gripped the side of the sink.

"Damn it," he sighed dejectedly. "Why couldn't I beat him? How was he able to move that fast? There's only been one other person who moved so fast I couldn't see them. He didn't have the Demon's Eye, so how? _How?" _

The door opened again, prompting him to turn around to see his brother.

"Finally awake?" Knives asked.

"What happened?"

"Don't worry about it. Nothing of importance to you."

Vash made no effort to keep Knives from putting the metal collar on him and it wasn't until the older twin yanked on the chain did he begin to follow behind him.

"Where are we going?" he inquired in a faked upbeat tone.

"We've arrived in May City."

Vash grew pale from the meaning behind the statement. He rushed to Knives' side and grabbed his arm. "Don't do this."

Knives forcibly removed the gunman's hand and proceeded onward.

"Please. Just wait!"

Vash grew nervous as they came to stand in front of thirty-three men from what he could count. Each had a gun, a blade, or both.

"Knives," he began, his voice quaking. "If you have to go through with this, then take the plant. But nobody has to die."

His twin snickered. "Always thinking of their well-being. Pathetic."

All at once, the floor they stood on started to move downward. It wasn't long until they were outside of the Ark, beneath it. Vash looked around frantically as they got closer to the ground; he could see the scared and astonished expressions on the townspeople's faces. He was so preoccupied with taking in his surroundings, he hadn't noticed that Knives had tied his leash around one of the four thick bars lowering the platform.

When they landed, Vash looked to his brother, who merely turned to him and grinned devilishly.

"Knives…." the younger twin whispered.

"Take it."

With collective wild shouting, the group of men took off, shooting their guns randomly at people and buildings. Vash started to run towards the crowd, but his head abruptly snapped back from the chain having reached its length. He fell, which drew laughter from Knives.

"Why don't you stay here and watch?"

Vash quickly got to his feet and began tugging on the leash, trying to break it free from the collar. "I can't just do nothing!" he spoke through clenched teeth.

"Good luck with that."

"Knives! WAIT!"

The blonde watched his brother enter the pandemonium and gasped in complete shock from Knives slicing someone in half at the waist with the large blade formed from his arm. His eyes were dazzled with horror; those who returned fire were either shot or slashed. Others ran for safety in the nearest building. Hysterically, Vash struggled to liberate himself, desperate to save _any_one, even if it was just a single person.

"I have….to do…._something!_" he yelled with each pull he made.

He glanced at the crowd again, and his eyes grew wide; at the center of the city, three iles away, two children were cowering on the ground with Knives staring down at them.

"No," he breathed. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and when he re-opened them, they were glowing blue and conveyed sheer anger. "_NO!_" he roared, and with one last incredibly strong jerk, the link connecting the metal chain to his collar broke open. He tumbled backward and in a flash, he was sprinting in the direction of his twin. Even though he was moving at his inconceivable speed, he feared he wouldn't make it in time; Knives was already raising his blade.

_Just a little farther. Don't let me be too late._

Everything felt as if it were happening in slow-motion, despite him traveling faster than people could see. Knives commenced lowering his weapon to cut through the two children; Vash lunged and covered them with his body, taking the blow himself. He wailed in agony as the sharp blade carved a deep gash from his left shoulder down the entire length of his back.

Knowing there was no time to spare, he ushered the kids out from under him and faintly ordered, "Go! Hurry!"

"Vash?! Is that you?!" one of them asked, recognizing him from his previous visit to the city and remembering play-fighting with him.

"_Go!"_

The two seemed hesitant to leave him, but they ran away to find shelter. Through gritted teeth, Vash shouted in pain from Knives stomping on his fresh wound.

"How did you break free?!" Knives bellowed furiously. "You worthless fool!" Powerfully, he kicked the gunman onto his back. "I hope this was worth it because I will make you pay for it!"

All of a sudden, Vash felt his body grow stiff before he was getting up without his control. His muscles were moving on their own accord; when he wanted to do an action, they wouldn't cooperate. He gazed anxiously at his brother and was surprised to see another man standing beside him.

"What's happening?" the blonde asked frightfully. "Why can't I move?"

"This is Legato," Knives introduced calmly. "He has the ability to make you do whatever he desires; he can bend you in positions that would break your bones and sever your joints." He placed his black revolver in to his twin's hand. "One in each foot."

"My pleasure, Master," Legato replied with a malicious grin.

No matter how hard he tried to resist, Vash's thumb cocked the hammer, aimed the gun downward, and pulled the trigger. Behind his closed lips, he yelled from the piercing anguish that engulfed his right foot. Another bullet was shot in to his left. The hot tears on his flushed cheeks blended in with the sweat pouring down his face.

"Walk him back to the ship."

"Yes, Master."

Vash grimaced and groaned weakly with every step. It hurt like hell; the small rocks his feet landed on didn't help matters. Bloody footprints were left behind him as he was marched to the platform of the Ark. His back was covered in blood as well, and he could feel the red liquid dripping down to his legs.

His vision became narrower and dimmer as he neared unconsciousness. The last thing he saw was the city's light bulb being lifted in to the sky, disappearing into the Ark, before his eyes closed and he collapsed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I went with the Japanese lyrics for the song because it's such a more gorgeous version of it.


	7. A Heavy Burden

**A/N: **I apologize for taking so long with the update! Hopefully this will hold y'all over for a bit while it takes a backseat for a short bit due to life happening :) As always, feedback is appreciated and loved; the fact you're merely reading this brings me happiness too :D

* * *

><p>"You've learned nothing. In all these years, you're still the sympathetic idiot you've always been. Give it up, Vash. It'll save you a lot of grief. Make it easier on yourself. Join me and spare yourself the consequences."<p>

The green eyes that had once been lit up with abundant energy and such thoughtful compassion were now hollow; faded redness gave confirmation that tears had been shed, and there were dark circles under them that attested to his weariness. Vash stared blankly ahead, rarely blinking and focusing on nothing. His head was turned to the left as he lay on his stomach. Restraints that were buckled over his calves, thighs, and neck prevented him from moving; his arm was extended before him with his wrist handcuffed to a metal bar at the front of the table he was on.

He had woken up in this position, to fingers ghosting over his visage and stroking his disheveled hair. It was his brother, who was sitting in a chair next to him and regarding him as a disappointed parent would look upon a disobedient child.

"You repulse me, Vash, with your continued need to save everyone." Knives had expected his twin to retort with some comment or excuse during the lecturing, but the gunman had remained silent. "Well? Don't you have anything to say?"

Vash blinked sleepily.

Knives sighed and nodded. "I see."

He twisted off the cap on the bottle he had been holding and held it above his brother's left shoulder where the grotesque lesion he had gifted Vash with started. There was no rush as he began to empty the contents on to the open wound. The instant the alcohol landed in the gash, Vash shut his eyes tightly, clenched his teeth, and a mixture of hissing and screaming sounded from him. His hand balled in to a fist and despite the unbelievable stinging pain, he put up no fight to free himself.

"Beg for me to stop, and I will," Knives challenged calmly, leisurely traveling down the length of the incision with the liquid.

Vash shifted his shoulder closer to his mouth in order to smother the sounds of immense discomfort.

The older twin chuckled amusedly. "Trying to prove how tough you are, little brother? Or do you just want to keep defying me?"

The blonde felt as if his back had been engulfed by flames.

"Yet….I'm also helping you. Prevent infection. I imagine it must be a little painful, though; am I right?" He spoke the last several words with a wide grin.

"Go….to Hell," Vash growled breathlessly, yet boldly.

The response was a boisterous laugh. "_So _tough. If only you'd put that anger towards humans instead of your own kind, your own brother."

"I won't….be….like you," he was able to vocalize with great effort.

"Mm, I wouldn't resign yourself to that just yet. There's still time for you to come around." There was a pause before Knives commented observantly, "You're filthy. I suppose I could give you a bath. Might even join you and take one myself."

Once the bottle was empty, Knives merely gazed at his brother and shook his head. Vash lay panting, his expression contorted in to one of misery.

_No matter what you do to me, I will _never _be like you, Knives._

* * *

><p>The water cascading down from the cup held above his head made Vash feel refreshed and somehow purified of the vulgar, violent activities he had been subjected to since reuniting with his brother. He sat in the small bathtub with his legs stretched out before him, feet still wrapped in bandages, while Knives had taken a seat on a chair next to him. From what he assumed, this was meant to be the captain's quarters – a single room and a private bathroom. Naturally, Knives had taken up residence in it for the time spent on the Ark.<p>

The raw gash on his back continued to provide a stinging, burning sensation, and his feet throbbed agonizingly. He stayed unmoving, eyes downcast, as his twin started to shampoo his hair.

"_Don't look so depressed, Vash. Honestly. You make me sick sometimes," _Knives chastised mentally. _"They don't deserve you crying over them."_

Vash closed his eyes as his brother rinsed his blonde locks and didn't respond. His thoughts drifted to the atrocities he had witnessed, remembering how easily Knives' blade cut through human flesh. There was water dripping down his face, yet Knives caught the two tears that suddenly mixed with the other droplets. With great force, the older twin angrily backhanded Vash, sending the other man's head crashing in to the wall.

"_What did I just say?!" _Knives snarled. _"You're so pathetic, Vash."_

The gunman swallowed, sat up straight once more, and rested his chin on his chest. He winced and bit his lip as Knives washed and lightly scrubbed his back, though stayed silent. Every inch of his body was tended to by the soapy washcloth before his brother rinsed him off and drained the water. He put up no fight as Knives hoisted him to his feet, dried him, wrapped the towel around his waist, and instructed him to sit on the edge of the tub. Shaving cream was spread on to his face, and Vash kept his eyes staring at anything but his twin while Knives glided a razor over his skin.

"You're much prettier like this," the older plant stated with a hint of lust in his voice. "Clean shaven….Your hair could use a trim too one of these days."

It was the first sentence out of the two that made Vash feel grossly sick; he loved Knives dearly, yet this was one of those times where he wondered if his brother felt the same, if he meant anything more to Knives other than just being a sexualized toy.

Taking the opportunity to speak as the other male ran the razor under water, Vash asked in little more than a whisper, "Why didn't you just kill me?"

The blue-eyed twin smirked and carefully continued his preening task. "Is that what you wanted?"

"_No," _the outlaw replied telepathically. _"But….with the Gung Ho Guns and all, I got the impression you wanted me dead."_

"_I wanted you to suffer."_

"_So when you get bored of this, you'll put a bullet in my head?"_

"_No….Everything I've ever done has been for your benefit in some way."_

Vash squinted as he stared at his brother in slight disbelief. _"Even hurting me yourself?"_

"_You make me do it; you bring it on all by yourself. I don't enjoy punishing you….Once the humans have been exterminated, we'll at last have our Eden. It'll be perfect. No more pain. Everything you ever wanted."_

"_Why can't that be now?"_

Knives gave his brother a stern, disapproving look and finished in silence. Once he wiped what small traces of shaving cream remained from Vash's countenance, Knives helped the blonde put on his garment and lead him to the room he had chained up Vash in before. He opened the grate in the floor and motioned for his twin to get in to the containment cell. Vash obeyed, grimacing in pain as he lied down on his back. There was only room enough to slightly bend his knees; he couldn't lift his head very far off the cold, hard floor either.

"I'll be back sometime," Knives said, closing the metal lattice and leaving the gunman in solitary.

* * *

><p>It was a quarter after one o'clock when Wolfwood pulled in to another town and decided it was time for a pit stop. Without even saying a word to anybody, he could sense the nervousness and jitters everyone seemed to have. He stepped into a saloon, took a seat at the bar, and waited until the bartender approached him before he asked, "You all seem to be a little on edge; what's the story?"<p>

"You haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"It happened this morning. May City. Same thing that happened in Augusta."

Wolfwood felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. "The plant?"

"Yep. Gone. Taken away. Numerous casualties and many wounded. Some say there was a man, white hair, who attacked with a sword coming out of his arm. I find that hard to believe, but who knows. I suppose anything's possible now."

Everything the priest had feared was proven true. Knives was alive, which meant Vash had been unsuccessful. The genocidal twin's victory could only mean one thing.

_Vash is dead, _Wolfwood thought with a mixture of anger and overwhelming sadness. _He's dead._

As if in a daze, he left the saloon and found his way to the local church. Taking a seat in a pew midway to the pulpit, he set his large cross beside him, leaned back, and stared vacantly ahead. There were a few other people scattered in various pews around him, heads bowed as they prayed. He wasn't sure what he was doing there, only knew he needed some place peaceful to wrestle with the emotions taking over him.

Absentmindedly, he removed the flip lighter from his pocket and proceeded to turn it over and over again in his hand. Vash had seemed rather giddy about giving it to him, Wolfwood had found it cute. And also incredibly thoughtful. Nobody ever gave him anything; the fact Vash had even considered gifting it to him in the first place touched his heart like nothing had in quite some time.

_Always the giver, _he thought with a minute smile. _He'd give his life for a stranger….gave me a friend, reasons to care and live for….gave me his body, himself….What the hell did _I _ever give him in return? _

_I understand why you didn't want me to go with you; I wouldn't want you to get sucked into my personal battles either. Some problems are just ours and ours alone to take care of. But it would've been an honor to die with you. _

He let out a deep breath, closed his eyes briefly, and fought to keep his emotions in check. _That _was something else Vash could do that everyone else couldn't: the Humanoid Typhoon was always capable of making him feel in ways nobody had been able to previously.

…_.I can't believe you're really gone, Spikey. I'm not usually the optimist, but I had faith you would make it out of there. Guess I'll try to finish what you started. Can't make any promises of succeeding. _

_I'm really going to miss you….Already do. I know the insurance girls will too. We'll have a drink in your honor one of these days. I wonder if Millie remembers dancing with you the last night we were all together. _

His lips quirked upward as he chuckled at the memory.

_She _was _pretty plastered. I'll remember it – how happy you looked, an actual smile on your face instead of a fake one you tended to hide behind. I remember when I first met you, when I first saw you really smile; your eyes almost seemed to sparkle. You could've lit up a room. I didn't realize then just how much pain you were keeping to yourself, how much weight you carried on your shoulders. It's no wonder your true smiles were few and far between. I feel lucky to have been able to see them, even cause some of them myself. _

_When I kissed you that one night….I thought I was insane to feel anything other than just pleasure. Why would I? You annoyed the hell out of me. You irritated me. You made me laugh. You made me rethink everything I ever believed in. You single-handedly helped restore some of my faith in humanity. When I touched you….heard and saw you react to my hands on you….I felt like something stirred within me, as if….I was more alive than I ever had been. _

He put the lighter back in his pocket and took out the yellow tinted sunglasses to wear. The memory of Vash giving them to him caused him to imagine the feel of the gunman's fingertips against his palm, to remember that moment of them being placed in his hand and the solemn smile Vash had offered him.

_Never think I'll have as good of a partner as you when it comes to firing and dodging bullets. We worked well together, didn't we? I underestimated you when you got me into our first skirmish together. You seemed so ridiculous and scatter-brained, I didn't think you'd be able to hit a target standing right in front of you. You proved me wrong about a lot of things. _

_I'm not good at goodbyes. I don't like saying them. So I won't. This isn't goodbye, Spikey. It's just a temporary separation. Who knows? I may be joining you sooner than I expect._

There would be no tears; he refused to crumble that much. He needed to remain in-control, strong. The war wasn't over yet.

_Thank you, Vash….For everything. _

With a heavy sigh, he performed the sign of the cross, waited for the person currently in the confessional to finish, then entered the box himself.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," he greeted.

"When was your last confession?" came the voice from behind the wall separating them.

"It was some months ago."

"Continue."

"Well….I fucked-" He hurriedly cleared his throat. "Excuse me, sorry about that. I had sex with another man. And I know the church doesn't like that. Written in the Bible and all that it's a sin. And I may have doomed myself even more because I fell in love with this man. I tried to deny it, but that just didn't work.

Now I know I should be asking for forgiveness because I had sex with him more than once. But what I really regret is that I didn't tell him I loved him. And now he's dead. I don't have the chance now. He was my friend, then something a little more than that, and now he's somebody who's dead without ever hearing me say, 'I love you….'

Well….I suppose that's it. Thanks for listening, Father."

Wolfwood left the confessional before the clergyman could say anything. He exited the church, still feeling the grief of losing his closest friend like a weight that couldn't, and would never, be lifted off his shoulders.

* * *

><p>There was no clock around; nobody passing by to tell him what time it was. With nothing other to do than stare at the ceiling or try to sleep – which kept proving impossible – Vash felt like it had been hours since his brother locked him away in this open coffin. He periodically moved as much as he could on to his side in order to help alleviate the pain from his back, though it didn't seem to work. There wasn't anything, really, he could do as far as his feet were concerned; that severe discomfort would simply have to be persevered through.<p>

He had been alone since Knives left him; because of this, he was intensely curious to know who eventually came in to the room. It was a dark, almost suffocating presence he could feel radiating from whoever it was. The instant the man spoke, Vash recognized the voice.

"I must say, I would highly prefer it if you were actually underground, buried six feet below the surface," Legato stated silkily, approaching the containment cell. He peered down at the blonde with a bemused smirk.

"You and a whole lot of other people," Vash responded nonchalantly. "You'll have to get in line." He grinned, though his eyes were cold and piercing.

"Your mere existence causes me undue stress, Vash the Stampede."

"Yeah, I seem to do that quite a bit, don't I?"

"I don't understand why my Master has such an attachment to you; it repulses me more than I care to ever admit."

"I think you just did."

Noting the smug expression on the prisoner's countenance, Legato took control over the man's body and forced Vash's fingernails to dig harshly in to his skin, breaking the surface and making him bleed. Vash made a soft noise of pain and winced. It aroused a light laugh from Knives' servant.

"You're far from the exquisite perfection of your brother; the fact he leaves your ghastly form on display, uncovered, nauseates me. You're very ungrateful for the attention he has paid you, attention you don't deserve."

"I get the feeling you wish it was you under him, not me." The gunman's nails raked down his right side, causing him to close his eyes momentarily and groan faintly. Marks were left in his flesh as if he had been attacked by the claws of an animal. "Honestly, having someone use you against your will is not all that great."

"It should be an honor that he chooses you to fornicate with."

Vash's stomach churned in response to the statement; it was difficult to grasp how Legato could excuse what his twin had done to him. His throat felt constricted as he said quietly, almost as if embarrassed, "I should be so lucky to have him rape me." The confident spirit he had had shattered, leaving immense degradation etched in his features.

Legato shook his head and chuckled. "You deserve the utmost humiliation and torture, Vash the Stampede. I'll see to it that it will happen. I know my Master has some wonderful plans for you, but I also intend to utilize you for my own entertainment."

"You want a go at me too? Is that it?"

"I think for now he prefers not to share you with anyone else."

The vast amount of relief Vash felt was contained behind a stoic expression. Being dominated by Knives was atrocious enough; he didn't dare linger on the thought of others potentially participating.

"You almost annihilated him all those years ago in July. I swore then I would oversee your demise. In light of his attachment to you, I intend to up the ante."

A sharp intake of breath sounded as Vash tore through his own skin with his fingernails in a horizontal line across his abdomen. The sight of fresh blood delighted Legato; he stared for a moment, taking in the beauty of it, before at last leaving. The instant he was gone, Vash regained control over his limbs and firmly pressed his hand against the new wounds. The conversation left him feeling incredibly dirty, as if he had been physically molested. Though it seemed tremendously unlikely he'd ever cross paths with Wolfwood again, if he did he wasn't sure if he'd be able to let the other man touch him, let alone look him in the eye.

_I'd ask for forgiveness if you were here, Wolfy, _he thought shamefully. _You're a priest after all, right? You could help cleanse me of my sins….Then again, I would never want you to know about what I've done….So appalling. I can't help feeling I've betrayed you and what we had…._

He wasn't sure if they even _did _have anything together; they never exchanged those three important words, never verbally shared with one another any personal feelings they possibly might have for the other.

With the way he was currently feeling, vile and dejected, he'd be lucky if Wolfwood took him back as even just a friend.

* * *

><p>The crushing loss of Vash crippled Wolfwood more than he ever thought it would. The two of them had been face to face with death multiple times, and despite always evading it, he always knew they couldn't escape its clutches forever.<p>

He hadn't expected it to claim Vash first, however, hadn't expected it to be without him being there to ease the Humanoid Typhoon's transition to the afterlife. It was a priest's duty to console the dying and let them pass on with the comfort of knowing their sins were forgiven.

_I should've been there….should've held his hand, said a prayer, anything, _he reflected mournfully.

Downing the rest of his beer, he turned around on the barstool to survey the crowded saloon. He didn't have it in him to continue traveling, leaving him to purchase a room at the inn for the night and get lost in alcohol. The townspeople were still riled up from the news of May City; they openly put their hatred of the sixty-billion-double-dollar man on display by a large number of them taking turns throwing whatever sharp objects they had at a wanted poster of Vash the Stampede. Whenever one hit the outlaw's cheeky portrait, they celebrated with cheers and toasts. It didn't take long for the Humanoid Typhoon's face to be indiscernible from the countless hits from knives, forks, darts – anything and everything that could pierce through.

"Hey Nelson!" one of the men hollered to the bartender. "You got another of this poster? I think we killed this one dead!" There was rowdy applause and whooping in response.

"Yeah, let me go get one."

Wolfwood watched, eyes glaring with burning anger, as another wanted poster was nailed to the wall. This one lasted a meager five minutes before another replacement was needed. The preacher's attention averted to a group of six drunk men at a table nearby when he heard Vash's name mentioned.

"He's the fucking devil. Anybody who thinks otherwise is a god damn idiot."

"If he came here….what I wouldn't do to him. Make him pay. Wring every inch of his worthless life out little by little to the point he begs for death."

"Riddle him with bullets."

"Nah, that'd be too quick. You want him to suffer, don't you?"

"Castrate him, cut him up, and leave him in pieces in the desert."

"Should cut out his heart."

"I don't think he has one."

"Rip out his intestines, inch by inch?"

"As long as he's awake for it all."

"I wouldn't mind takin' something of his in the process."

"What you sayin'?"

"Humiliate him. Make him cry. Pride is precious to a man, yeah? Why not take it from him in the worst way? Tie him up and fuck him til he begs us to stop and just keep goin'. It's not a bad thing he's a pretty boy; makes it easier on the eyes for us, am I right?"

A round of harsh laughter was the answer.

"I wouldn't mind forcin' him to do what I want. Put that mouth to good use if you know what I'm sayin'!"

During the conversation, Wolfwood's blood was boiling as his rage built up inside him. Now, he had had enough. As the men were indulging in another riotous laugh, the preacher ventured to the table and broke his beer bottle over the head of the man who last spoke. The other five stood immediately, ready to fight.

"What the hell you want?!"

Wolfwood grabbed the nearest of the gang by his collar and threw a punch. "I don't appreciate you talking about a friend of mine in that manner," he spoke in a low tone. "You wanna go on thinking about dismembering and raping that man? Better take it elsewhere or better yet, shut your fucking mouths."

"What're you gonna do, tough guy? Who knew there'd be a sympathizer for Vash the Stampede?"

Before anyone could comprehend what was happening, Wolfwood drew a pistol from the inside breast pocket of his jacket and lodged a bullet in each of their shoulders. At the sound of gunfire, complete chaos broke out. Tables and chairs went flying, along with bodies as the intoxicated saloon crowd started fights with one another.

Amidst the pandemonium the priest sauntered to the exit, shaking almost imperceptibly from the adrenaline pulsing through him.

* * *

><p>Two men lifted Vash out from the containment cell and passed him on to his brother. He tightly grabbed onto Knives' offered arm in order to stay standing; his legs felt heavy and frail, and they buckled under him several times as his twin escorted him back to his small room. Once he was alone, he sat on the edge of the bed, rubbed the stump of his left arm as if to get warm, and sighed. He had been locked in The Hole for eight hours; he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep, but his body was in too much pain.<p>

"Hey, uh….Wolfy?" he began softly. He didn't know why he was speaking aloud. In fact, he felt it a little pathetic, though comforted at the same time. "What am I doing? It's not like he can hear me…." Taking a deep breath, he decided to start again. "Wolfy….Please come find me. I need your help…." He was suddenly overwhelmed by tears. "I'm so tired, Nick. So hungry. And alone….I need you; please come back. I hurt all over….I know it's only going to get worse. I can take a lot, but he just makes me feel so….weak….powerless. I just want to go to sleep and wake up to find this has all been a dream. And that I didn't fail and doom all of humanity….I miss you….Don't forget about me, Wolfy….I'm still here." He bowed his head and covered his face with his hand. "I'm still here."

With his eyes closed, he could easily picture Wolfwood in his mind; his imagination went rampant as he thought up scenarios of the preacher coming to save him and take on Knives with him. They had become a perfected team when it came to fighting together. It soon turned to replaying his last night with the other man. The way Wolfwood made him feel physically and emotionally was massively different than how Knives touched and treated him.

Resting down on the flat, dank pillow, he curled up on his left side and wiped the tears from his cheeks. There was nothing to do but attempt to retreat in to his subconscious. When he heard the door open, he kept his eyes closed and pretended to be asleep. The hope was that the person would not bother doing anything since he wasn't awake. He swallowed to clear the non-existent lump from his throat upon his ears registering the visitor was removing his shirt.

_Probably Knives, _he concluded.

Keeping entirely still, breathing slow and deep, and eyes shut, Vash didn't react to his brother lying behind him, pressing against him. Knives began kissing the back of his neck and ran his hand along the gunman's side. Vash suffocated a sound of discomfort at the fingers gliding over the scratches from earlier.

_Please just go away. Leave me alone, _he thought to himself, stifling a noise of repulsion upon feeling Knives' erection push against him accompanied by his twin squeezing his round backside. He shivered from the warm breath expelled near his ear before a wet tongue lapped at the earlobe. It wasn't until Knives' wandering hand ventured between his legs then up to the drawstring of his pants did he reveal he wasn't asleep.

"No," he said sternly, latching on to his twin's wrist to prevent him from untying the garment.

"So you _are _awake." The older plant freed his hand from Vash's grasp and made to slide it down behind the man's waistband, yet was once again stopped.

"No," Vash repeated, voice slightly unsteady. "Stop."

"I wasn't asking." He began kneading the outlaw's limp member.

Showing more vitality than Knives expected, Vash yanked his brother's hand up to his mouth and sank his teeth in to it.

"You fucking bastard!" Knives roared and cradled the bleeding injury to his chest. Vash took the opportunity to sit up and back away from him; the tremendous ire in the blue eyes caused the gunman to quickly regret what he had done.

"Knives-"

The clenched fist collided with the side of his head, silencing the rest of his sentence. It took several seconds for the powerful impact to subside, though Knives wasn't waiting for the recovery. He pulled his twin off the bed by his blonde hair, threw him to the floor, and commenced violently kicking and stomping on him. The younger plant tried to curl up in to a ball, but was frequently struck with such force, it sent him sprawling, leaving every inch of him vulnerable. A stabbing pain on his left side robbed him of breath for a moment, and his eyes widened in terrible agony. It wouldn't be until later that he'd find out two of his ribs were broken.

Feebly, he held his arm near his head in order to protect his face and skull the best he could. A number of kicks still made it through the weak barrier, one fracturing his right cheek bone.

"Don't you _ever _defy me like that again!" Knives shouted. His enraged temper drove him to want to beat and break his brother's body to the brink of death. The sight of blood smeared against the floor and on Vash only fueled him to continue.

It wasn't until he heard his brother whisper his name did he pause. The anger subsided, yet was still very present. Swiftly, he removed his black revolver from its holster on his thigh, straddled and sat on the other man, and shoved the barrel of the gun under Vash's chin. The swelling and bruising of the outlaw's countenance prevented his eyelids from opening more than mid-way, though Knives could see the hint of fear in the green eyes. Vash's breaths came in rattling, uneven increments, sending a shot of enormous discomfort through the left side of his chest with each one.

"You always make things harder on yourself than they need to be, Vash," Knives said harshly. "If you would've just let me do what I wanted, you wouldn't be a hideous mess like you are now. Was it worth it, hm?" Leisurely, he began tracing the contours of the male's face with the revolver, grinning whenever Vash winced from it moving over his battered visage. "It's funny, isn't it? And sadly ironic. You cry and mourn over the death of humans; it hurts you to watch them die. But none of them would care if you were gone. In fact, they'd dance on your grave and consider themselves lucky the Humanoid Typhoon was finally dead. I don't think there's one person who would shed a tear for you."

Vash's lips moved and he uttered something, but it was too soft for even Knives' heightened sense of hearing.

"What was that?"

After swallowing and pausing for a few breaths, Vash repeated the name. "Wolfwood."

A bitter laugh was the response. "Oh yes. How could I forget? You lowered yourself to a human's level and let him have you. Your sentimentalism sickens me and saddens me at the same time. When will you learn?" Knives pried open his brother's mouth and shoved the barrel of the gun in to his oral orifice. The sound of the hammer being cocked caused Vash's eyes to liven once more with panic present in them. "Should we put it to the test? See if he cares about you the way you foolishly believe he does? For my own edification…."

Vash closed his eyes, anxiously waiting for the shot. The _click _from the trigger being pulled rang just as loudly as a bullet being fired would have in his ear. He visibly jumped in shock and continued quivering uncontrollably even after Knives had removed the steel from his mouth.

"Your luck always seems to save you. Or maybe it's not even loaded," Knives taunted.

The blue eyes stared at the gun for a short period as he was overcome by the exciting desire to violate the younger plant in a new, excruciating way. Vash still had to be taught a lesson – to learn Knives' touch wasn't as awful as he seemed to think it was.

In little time, Knives had Vash lying on his stomach and stripped. The blonde was expecting to be assaulted by his brother, but was horrified to feel the cold barrel of the revolver prod him instead.

"Knives," he cried faintly. "Don't….Please don't do it."

One word in that phrase brought a devilish smile to Knives' face. It had been so long since he had been able to reduce his twin to resort to using that word, so long since he had heard him say "please." As a result, his cock hardened as he became greatly aroused. Up until that point, Vash had taken every abuse with little to no verbal response, refused to display any weakness by asking or begging his brother to stop. Knives relished this moment, hoping it was the crack needed to start the process of completely shattering Vash's kindhearted, virtuous spirit.

A tortured shriek filled the dark room as Knives forced the gun in to the other man's body. It was only a few minutes before the screams faded to choked sobs and whimpers.

Vash inwardly begged to be rendered unconscious, to not be present as he was savagely desecrated. The relief never came.

* * *

><p>It was a moment of weakness. A desire to not be alone. A need for some sort of connection.<p>

They were all reasons why Wolfwood had brought a prostitute back to his room.

But it was entirely wrong. Everything was wrong. The blonde hair he ran his fingers through wasn't short and spiked. Crystal blue eyes stared down at him instead of exquisite green; there was no underlying shyness or sense of innocence or devotion conveyed. When he touched her body, the skin was smooth and undamaged. No metal. No screws. No bolts. Flawless.

Her moans weren't genuine, nothing like the arousing, irrepressible ones that had been like musical masterpieces to his ears – those still echoed in his mind whenever he remembered the intimacy they had shared. She didn't breathe his name like _he _had. Her touch didn't bring him that extraordinary sensation he had felt whenever _he _had laid his hands on him.

_He _was gone, and Wolfwood realized there was no filling that aching void.

The hired company left after almost an hour. The priest lit a cigarette and gazed out the window. Though he tried fighting back the memories, they flooded him, drowning him in every aspect of Vash the Stampede. The man's smile. His silly laugh. His cheerful voice. Red coat. Childish nature. Too forgiving and utterly kind. Strict values and principles he'd defend to the bitter end. Unfairly persecuted. Incessant sadness he had kept hidden well. The drinks they had shared. Numerous nights spent in the open desert, just the two of them, looking at the stars and playing "I wish;" a smile tugged at the edges of Wolfwood's lips as he thought of one in particular. They'd try to outdo each other with how ridiculous or inappropriate their wishes were; Vash had won one night with "I wish a cow would jump over the moon….and a dish would run away with a spoon." It had been so completely random, the preacher had been unable to come up with one to follow it due to bursting into a fit of laughter; granted, he had been a bit drunk and everything was a tiny bit funnier than usual, but he conceded the game, much to Vash's delight.

Exhaling a cloud of smoke, Nicholas focused on the glittering sea of stars and whispered, "I wish I had stayed."

* * *

><p>The atrocious, vile attack lasted approximately ten minutes, though it easily seemed to have gone on far longer. He was in pain, head to toe, yet below his waist there was agonizing torment that none of his other wounds could compete with at the moment. He had been unable to crawl away, too weak to attempt struggling in any way; the unfathomable mortification he felt reduced him close to the point of self-loathing. Regardless of the room being rather dark, Vash still hid his face by turning it towards the floor, not wanting his twin to look at him due to embarrassment and the desire to hang on to whatever minute scrap of dignity he had left.<p>

In the sliver of moonlight coming through the window, Knives turned the gun left to right, grinning at the traces of blood on the barrel. The noises his brother had made, the way Vash had beaten his head and fist against the floor while Knives sodomized him with the firearm made the older plant eventually climax without having even touched the other man. It had all been so beautiful.

"Well?" Knives finally asked. He snickered at the sound of his twin still sniveling quietly and trembling. "How are you feeling?" Slowly, he placed his gun back in its holster and moved to sit closer to Vash's head. When his fingers made contact with the messy blonde hair, he feigned being upset from the gunman recoiling slightly at the physical caress. "Aw, don't be like that, little brother. You know I don't do this for fun….What would Rem think if she saw us fighting like this?"

He knew he had hit a home run with the last sentence when Vash became silent and his body went stiff. Although he couldn't see the visual reaction painted on his brother's visage, he was quite aware of how badly he had stabbed him with those words. It wasn't long before Vash succumbed to a new wave of tears; he shook ceaselessly like a tree branch in a strong breeze as he sobbed wildly.

"Vash….Come here," Knives cooed soothingly. "Come here."

Obediently, the blonde inched towards Knives until his head was resting in the man's lap. Tremulously, he grasped a handful of the black slacks his twin wore and longed for someone to comfort him; Knives would have to do for the time being.

"There, there," Knives spoke gently, brushing the outlaw's hair and softly stroking the freshly bruised cheeks and arm. "This won't happen again, right?"

A tiny nod was the answer.

"Good; I'm glad. You know I don't like hurting you, Vash. Please stop making me do it, alright?"

Another nod. "I'm….s-s-sorry, Kn-Knives."

"Me too."

Eventually, Vash was able to fall asleep despite the unbearable anguish he was in. Faint sniffles continued to escape his mouth and rack his entire body, but for the most part, he rested peacefully. Knives remained awake, lightly fondling him and watching him as he slept. He took great pleasure in almost having completely physically broken his brother. Tomorrow, he hoped he'd severely destroy him emotionally.


	8. Love and Peace

**A/N: **Huge thanks to **BurningWhiteTwilight **and **Lady Geuna **for the kind reviews! Really keeps me motivated and happy to continue. Also hello to new readers! :)

* * *

><p>The instant he awoke, his senses were overwhelmed by the throbbing misery his body had endured. A soft whimper sounded from him, and he kept his eyes shut tightly. Even though he felt as if he were in a haze, he was aware enough to realize he was lying on top of someone and no longer on the cool floor. It took a few moments for him to fully recognize where he was, that it was either still night or early morning because there was no sunlight yet, and his company was gently massaging his scalp with one hand and the other rested just below where the incision ended on his back near his hip.<p>

"I was going to let you have ten more minutes to sleep, but I guess you don't need them," Knives spoke quietly. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Vash replied in a whisper. "Hurt."

"We'll get you fixed and cleaned up later. Right now, I want to take you with me somewhere."

"Can I have a drink of water? Something…._Any_thing to eat?"

"Later. I promise. I need you to get up for now."

The thought of having to wait longer for relief from hunger and possible treatment to help him heal brought on a small bout of tears. "W-Why?"

"It shouldn't take long. Come on, Vash."

The blonde hesitated, but was soon assisted in getting to his feet and dressed by his brother. There was no collar with leash this time as Knives lead him out of his confinement room. The handful of men they passed snickered and pointed at Vash from seeing him walking oddly and wincing with every step. All of them had a fairly accurate idea of why he was moving the way he did, had heard the wounded, disturbing screeching the previous night; it caused the outlaw's cheeks to flush in silent humiliation and from the feeling of utter vulnerability. He was glad when Knives eventually stopped so that his body could be granted a rest, though he remained submerged in shame as his sore, aching muscles reminded him of just why they were in pain; desperately, he attempted to shove the memory out of his mind.

Once the platform started to lower, Vash asked apprehensively, "Just us?"

"We don't need anyone else this time. We're just going in to the town before everyone begins their day to get some things."

Vash exhaled shakily, inwardly relieved to know it wasn't going to be a massacre like May City. "Why do you need me to go with you though?"

There was no answer. The platform abruptly stopped well before reaching the ground, leaving the gunman puzzled until he felt Knives envelope him from behind. In seconds, the two were airborne, flying towards a settlement a dozen iles away from where the Ark was hovering. Tiredly, Vash closed his eyes, reveling in the tranquility of the light breeze brushing over his bare skin and through his hair. Knives' wings seemed to glitter in the remaining moonlight as he flew him and his twin through the open sky; a number of feather-like crystals left a shimmering trail behind them.

They landed near the center of the village less than five minutes later. There was no one on the street, no sign of life yet; the first sun had only just begun peeking over the horizon. Both of Knives' arms snaked around his brother's waist, pulling Vash to stand wholly against him.

"What's wrong?" Vash inquired worriedly, glancing down briefly before turning his head to try and look at his twin. "Is everything okay?"

"Very much so," Knives breathed in his ear. "I need you to do something."

"What?"

"Use it."

"Use it? What are you…." His eyes darted everywhere and his heart started racing as he put the pieces together. "Don't you dare," he threatened in as fierce a tone as he could; it wasn't much, and Knives laughed.

"I don't think you're strong enough to stop me."

Vash felt completely helpless as he watched, horrified, as his arm transformed into the destructive weapon he alone possessed. He fought to end the mutation, yet it was evident Knives' mental hold over him was too powerful for him to break through.

"STOP IT!" he bellowed vehemently. "STOP IT NOW!" Madly, he thrashed about in desperation to liberate himself from his twin's embrace; it grew to be more of a challenge due to the Angel Arm reaching its full size and weight with every passing second.

"Quit denying your potential. Show these worthless humans why _we _are the superior beings! That this planet belongs to _us_!"

Once the weapon had entirely formed, Vash glanced away from it, tears springing to his eyes in response to the bright light radiating from the sphere within it.

"Knives….No," he mumbled, sounding defeated. "Make it stop! Please! STOP IT!"

In what seemed like no time at all, the gun was ready to fire.

"Let it go, Vash," Knives murmured, latching on to his brother's altered limb and aiming it forward. "Unleash it. Now."

A devastating yell was drowned out in the deafening noise of total destruction. Buildings were blasted apart as easily as a sheet of paper being torn. Bricks and pieces of the ground were blown towards the sky and outward in all directions. A blinding brightness illuminated the area as much as an ile wide in diameter. Among the thunderous chaos, Vash's heightened sense of hearing was still able to pick up on various screams of shock and distress from the people under attack; each one was like a needle in his heart.

Knives grinned at feeling the younger plant quake in his arms. He could hear the strangled weeping coming from Vash, could perceive the unbelievable sorrow overtaking every inch of the other man's being. It elated him like few things could.

It was no longer than a minute when the luminous dome of light started to fade. No longer than a minute for the town to be decimated, razed to nothing more than scattered debris as if in the wake of a bomb explosion.

Gradually, the Humanoid Typhoon's arm returned to normal, and Knives lowered him to the ground before his legs gave out. With head bowed and face hidden behind his hand, Vash breathed erratically from his weak sobbing. Arrogant laughter reached his ears, riling him to the point where he finally turned around in order to slam his fist in to his twin's gut. Immediately, Knives doubled over, allowing Vash the chance to deliver a second blow to the older plant's head. The hit felled Knives to the rocky terrain, accompanied by a string of curse words.

"How….You…." Vash began almost inaudibly. Slamming his fist down on the earth, he shouted furiously, "HOW COULD YOU?! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?!" A pained grunt sounded from him as Knives' boot collided with the left side of his jaw.

"You should be asking yourself that question," Knives corrected condescendingly, rising to his feet. "_You _were the one who fired it. Only _you _are capable of this sort of feat. In the end, it was _you _who caused this."

"STOP SAYING THAT! I….I couldn't….I didn't…." He trailed off, comprehending that his brother was right, that when it came down to it, the fact remained that _he _was the one with the weapon, and _he_ hadn't prevented its activation.

"Your hands are dirty, Vash. You can't wash the blood off of them now. There's no going back. Accept it and join me."

The shuffling of rocks could be heard, prompting Vash to glance in the direction of it and watched blankly as Knives' infantry arrived.

"Check for survivors," Knives instructed. "And kill them."

The gunman's eyes widened, and he looked to his twin, who merely met his fretful gaze and smiled.

"Don't worry, dear brother. You did the hard part. Now it's my turn to simply clean up, as it were."

While Knives strolled off after his followers, Vash stayed alone where he was; he lacked the energy to try and stop the other man. Even if he was successful in incapacitating the white-haired plant, he knew there was no chance he'd be able to hinder the thirty-three men that would no doubt continue to abide by Knives' orders.

_It's all I can do, _he thought regretfully. _I…._

Once more, his attention was piqued – this time by quiet noises from only a few yarz away. Hurriedly, he crawled to where they were originating from and his heart ached at discovering the source. Under several layers of rubble and bricks, a woman lay trapped, clinging to her final strands of life.

"Miss?!" he asked, voice quivering as adrenaline pulsed through him. "Hello?! Can you hear me?!"

The woman opened her eyes slowly; it was a number of seconds before they were able to focus on Vash's face. "I can hear you," she spoke faintly.

"Just….Just hang on! I'll get some help, or….or something." He was absolutely frantic, shaking uncontrollably, heart pounding, and sadly ignorant of what to do.

"No, it's….it's okay," she managed to say, smiling slightly. "I don't….have much time left….anyway."

"No, no don't say that. It'll be alright. You'll be fine. I just…." He blinked several times in order to clear his vision, for he was flooded by incessant tears. "I need to get this off of you. I-" A hand on his cheek made him pause.

"My time has come….I didn't think…." A couple of harsh coughs interrupted her before she was able to proceed. "I didn't think he'd come here….I thought we were safe."

"He? I don't understand."

"….Humanoid Typhoon…."

Vash felt as if someone had impaled him with a spear. "Vash the Stampede?" he whispered.

She nodded.

He lowered his head and was unable to say anything for a moment as guilt rushed over him. "I'm….I'm _him_. I did this," he confessed remorsefully. "I'm Vash the Stampede."

She regarded him poignantly for a brief time and then shook her head. "Couldn't be….Not someone….like you."

"It is. I'm him. I'm so sorry….Forgive me. I didn't want this to happen….I'm sorry."

Taking note of his scarred, maimed body, his missing arm, and his bruised and battered face, she stated with grave concern, "You better find….some help, sweetie. You look to be….in bad shape. Poor thing."

"No, I won't leave you. Please just hold on. Please."

The hand touching his face started to fall, causing him to grasp it tightly and bring it to his chest. He watched, unable to do a thing, as the woman took a few more breaths and at last went still. His fingers squeezed her now lifeless ones, tears raining down on their clasped hands as he wept without restraint.

"I'm so sorry," he uttered miserably. "Forgive me."

For what seemed like ages, Vash was suspended in a state of nothingness. Whatever he heard came in to his ears muffled. The scenery around him was like watercolors that had all blended together. His nerve endings couldn't even register the physical pain for the time being. The world around him dissipated, leaving him alone with his guilt, grief, and the woman he had killed.

From a distance, Knives keenly observed the blonde, content to witness the enormous despondency etched in to the man's features. It was evident to him that this plan was quite successful in having Vash unravel so wonderfully.

Losing himself in the exquisite visual of his brother lamenting, obviously wallowing in such toil, Knives mused,_ So beautiful_. _How I loathe what she made you, how she turned you against me. But little by little, I'll at last put her to rest for you. I'll crush you until there's nothing left and then finally be able to re-shape you as you were meant to be. _

Not until he was certain there was no one left alive, Knives approached his twin, laid a hand on his shoulder, and spoke mildly, "Vash….Come on. It's time to go."

The younger plant remained immobile, oblivious to anything and everything.

"Vash….let's go."

With care, Knives lifted the outlaw to his feet before slinging the motionless form over his shoulder. The Ark had arrived on the outskirts of the village remains, and Knives took his precious cargo to his private quarters and gently eased Vash to sit in a chair. On the table in front of them, what could be described as a feast was waiting: meat, sandwiches, fruit, vegetables, water, juice, and half a dozen plain donuts.

"For you," Knives stated with a hint of pride. "A reward."

The aroma couldn't even rouse Vash out of his stupor. If it weren't for the movement of his chest from breathing and his eyes blinking every now and then, one would've believed him dead.

"It's all yours."

Five minutes passed before it was apparent nothing would be eaten. Knives once more picked his twin up and carried him to the bed. He rested down beside the younger plant, pulled him to lie on his side, and inched closer to lightly kiss Vash's forehead and drape his arm over him.

"You did well today," he whispered, his lips still against the gunman's brow. "You were perfect. Now sleep."

Vash started to shiver, prodding Knives to cradle him more tenderly.

_What have I done? _Vash thought regretfully. …._I've done the same as him….I took another life….I'm sorry, Rem. How can I tell Knives he's wrong to kill when I'm not any better? When I've done the same? First July, now this…._

All at once, exhaustion caught up with him; he slipped in to unconsciousness, unaware of anything other than his own hypocrisy.

* * *

><p>The city of December was just as he remembered it; in almost a year's time, nothing had changed.<p>

Not until Wolfwood started meandering around the bustling crowd did he begin picking up nervous chatter and an atmosphere of urgency. Piecing together the fragments from conversations he could overhear, he felt the gravity of concern plaguing everyone else.

Igniting the end of his cigarette, he inhaled deeply as he leaned back against the wall of a building and drifted away in thought.

_Another town gone. Just as July. The same beam of light that carved a hole in the fifth moon. Reported as being caused by Vash the Stampede….If only they knew…._

Off to his right, he heard the Humanoid Typhoon mentioned accompanied by derogatory slurs and foul language. Had it have been the day before, he would've silenced them all with hostile punches. Today, however, he didn't have the energy to; inwardly, he was fighting his own private war, with the combatants being every emotion he could ever fathom.

…_.Makes sense. They're twins, after all. Why _wouldn't _Knives have the same godly power, the same weapon? _

Names and titles had already begun being brainstormed for as to what to call the recent chain of events. "Armageddon." "The coming of the Devil." "War against The Stampede." "Hell's Typhoon." Some people hypothesized about what was prompting the world's first Human Disaster to turn on them so violently again with full-scale warfare. Others panicked about there being anywhere safe, fretted over how he was to be stopped. Regardless of the elevated danger threat that was broadcasted over the satellites, the bounty remained at sixty billion double-dollars. Though the payout would be excellent, many people wanted to execute him merely to preserve their livelihoods and restore safety – vengeance was also a driving factor.

Tossing his cigarette to the ground, Wolfwood sighed and gazed at the cloudless sky.

"Damn you, Spikey," he mumbled, a mixture of remorse and anger in his tone. "You sure picked a hell of a time to die. Suppose you can be proud and be at peace that you stuck to your ridiculous principles….Leave me to do what you can't. I wonder if you were strong enough to even fire a shot at him."

* * *

><p><em>The sky was a gorgeous pastel blue with only a few pillow-like clouds present. The sun's heat was comfortably warm, and vibrant green grass surrounded him in all directions, the blades undulating in the gentle breeze like a vast ocean. <em>

_Elbow resting on his bent knee, head cradled by his hand, Vash breathed in the refreshing scent of a nature he had only been exposed to as a child. A cheerful grin, which livened his expression, seemed permanent as he relaxed, completely at ease. _

_In an elegant tone, he began to sing merrily, "So…._

_Hitotsu-me no yoru ni,_

_Izuko kara koishi ga sekai ni ochiru."_

"_You've got a really nice voice there, needle-noggin'."_

_Vash jumped in surprise, his eyes widening at discovering Wolfwood sitting beside him. The preacher was leaning back against his large cross, cigarette already lit and halfway smoked. _

"_Nicholas? What are you doing here?" the blonde questioned dumbfounded, yet elated at the same time. _

"_Spiritual guidance, I think. Something on your mind?"_

_Vash turned to look ahead once more, surveying the open area laid out before him. "A lot….A lot's on my mind."_

"_Some things never change. Do you ever give yourself a break?"_

"_Wolfy….can I ask you something?"_

"_Shoot."_

"_Would you ever forget me? If I died….would you remember me?" _

_Exhaling a stream of smoke, Wolfwood let a beat pass before he answered, "That's a stupid thing to ask."_

"_Come on; I'm serious."_

"_Vash….I couldn't forget you even if I wanted to. And believe me, I've wanted to many times."_

_The gunman smirked. "Thanks for the honesty."_

"_You're unforgettable, Spikey. As much as I hate to admit it, a life without you in it would be pretty awful."_

"_You mean that?" he prodded, turning to stare at his companion directly._

"_When have I ever lied to you?" Noticing Vash about to rebuttal, Wolfwood hurriedly added, "Don't answer that. Yes, I mean it." He tossed his cigarette away, and it soon disappeared entirely. "I think about you every day….I miss everything about you….I'm worried about what's going to happen to you, what he's already done and _will _do to you."_

_The seriousness of what the preacher was saying made Vash glance away shamefully._

"_Don't be like that. You have no control over what he does. None of it's your fault."_

"_I feel like it's my fault….Everything. All of it. I failed, Nick."_

_The priest sat up at the sight of the other man's green eyes taking on a glassy appearance. He placed a hand on the blonde's thigh and said reassuringly, "You didn't fail, Vash. You make it your mission to spread love and peace throughout the world. If anything, humanity failed you. _I _failed you. I was supposed to protect you-"_

"_I don't need protecting, Wolfwood. I'm not _entirely _incapable of taking care of myself….I can't always rely on you to come bail me out."_

"_Maybe not, but I'll always try to."_

_Reluctantly, Vash met his comrade's gaze and was able to get out the words "Come back for me" before he suddenly hugged him and the tears started their descent. _

_Wolfwood clutched him lovingly, combing his fingers affectionately through the tousled hair as his friend came undone. "I will, Spikey. I promise," he whispered in the outlaw's ear. "I promise. Just hang in there. Just a little while longer."_

"_I'm so sorry," Vash spoke through his hitched breaths. _

"_I'm the one who should be saying that."_

"_I've done….unforgivable, filthy things. And I can't do anything to stop him….I'm so weak."_

"_Shhh….don't talk like that. You have to stay strong, just until I get to you….I know you can do it."_

It had been a couple of hours since Vash had closed his eyes and now, as Knives kept watch over him, he had either found some solace or more sorrow judging by his mumbling and slight movements. The older twin had done well at keeping his hands from wandering over his brother's defenseless form, had even dozed off for a bit himself. Presently, the sight of Vash displaying signs of life again brought on an overwhelming urge to touch him, dominate him.

"_Vash…."_

_Pulling away to look in his friend's eyes, Vash asked somewhat nervously, "What? Please don't say you're leaving. Not yet. Don't go."_

"_Hey, calm down. That's not it at all."_

"_What is it then?"_

_Long, rough fingers came to the gunman's cheek, making him nearly hard just from the simple caress. His heart thumped rapidly, stomach consumed with giddy butterflies as Nicholas leaned forward and kissed him. It was like a jolt to his system, a feeling so electrifyingly amazing he wanted to cry and laugh happily all at once. The manner in which the priest kissed him conveyed so much that it made his body yearn for more contact and his heart to swell with the utmost devotion. It felt like years had separated them, had passed since they experienced one another in this way. If the world was perfect, if he could live at last the quiet life he had always dreamed of, he would have this every day; he would have Nicholas D. Wolfwood to share everything with, always._

"_Wolfy…." He cupped the other man's face in his hands and smiled coyly. "I think….I know….I love you."_

_Wolfwood mirrored the affectionate expression of the blonde and after placing another delicate kiss on his lips, he voiced tenderly, "Love you too, needle-noggin'."_

_Believing they had all the time in the universe, Wolfwood was in no hurry as he guided Vash to lie down and covered every inch of exposed skin with licks from his tongue and playful nibbling. The disfigurations on the outlaw's body were slowly revealed with each button Wolfwood leisurely undid, and he teased the newly uncovered territory with his mouth; the response was uninhibited moaning. _

_Once the final one was unbuttoned, the preacher parted the fabric and studied the bare flesh for a moment as if re-memorizing every detail. _

"_My eyes are up here, you know," Vash chided jokingly after a minute or so._

_Wolfwood broke out of his trance and grinned. "Just admiring."_

"_As if there was anything about me to admire."_

"You _may think all of this will scare people away, but I've actually grown fond of your body, mutilated or not." _

_The plant's cheeks were colored a light shade of red as he blushed, and he didn't argue. _

"_Now how about seeing the rest of it?"_

_Vash suddenly felt the soft grass against his entire being, causing him to glance downward in surprise and found himself completely nude. _

"_What the hell?" he muttered, having no clue about where his clothes went. _

_Nicholas chuckled. "It's a dream, Spikey. Can do anything you want."_

"_Yeah?" He imagined the other man without any clothing and smiled in satisfaction when the outfit disappeared. _

"_Good. Now we don't have to waste time undressing each other; can get right down to it."_

For awhile after Knives had stripped himself and his twin, he sat atop Vash and continued to observe him. Occasionally, he pressed his lips to the other plant's, let his hands grope the areas that over the years he had learned gave Vash the most pleasure. A devious grin spread across his countenance at the change in his brother's demeanor whenever he stroked him. An innocent, joyful smile lit up Vash's features for a time before a subtle whimper of arousal sounded from him. In order to hear more, Knives commenced running his hands along the gunman's body more frequently, languidly, pausing to pinch and rub his thumb over Vash's nipple or to trace the length of his erection. He felt victorious whenever the blonde quivered beneath him.

He abruptly halted his fondling at the first breathless whisper of _that _name.

Wolfy.

A dull rage welled within him, yet he kept himself in check, even as Vash went on to breathe the name a number of times. Instead of striking the younger twin with a brass knuckle, he snickered and bent the male's legs, pushing the knees up near Vash's chest. He took a few minutes to finger him, his own member becoming fully hard as the gunman squirmed and moaned in response.

_Vash arched his back, mewled in enormous bliss, and wrapped his arms and legs around Wolfwood as the clergyman penetrated him. Fingertips danced along his side, eventually found themselves grabbing a handful of his damp hair. Numerous kisses were doted on his cheeks, lips, neck, and forehead. Their bodies moved as one as Nicholas took on a rhythm. _

"_Wolfy….ah!...ohhhh….More. Please," Vash panted, feeling insatiable. _

"_You want it a little rougher?" _

_The mischievous glint in the jade eyes made Nicholas shudder, wholly aroused. "Yes."_

_After suckling on the gunman's earlobe briefly, the preacher asked, "You sure you can handle it?"_

"_Absolutely."_

_Not one to turn down a challenge, Nicholas started thrusting more powerfully, without restraint, and pounded into Vash's body with everything he had. Vash's vocals were incessant and loud, dripping with rapture; his expression was tense, breathing heavy and ragged. _

"_Oh god, Wolfy….don't stop. Please don't stop."_

"_I'd never dream of it, dear brother."_

_The voice of his twin made Vash feel as if someone had shot him in the abdomen. His eyelids flew open, and he was horrified to find that Wolfwood was gone._

With a strangled cry, Vash jerked awake; the sight he was met with made him so nauseous, he almost had to turn his head to vomit. Staring back at him was Knives.

"W-where…." he began, terribly confused and in shock. As the seconds passed, he realized his brother's cock was inside of him, which sent a wave of revulsion and disgrace crashing over him. "What are you doing?"

"You were really enjoying yourself there, Vash. What were you dreaming of?"

The vision of Wolfwood's face, the sensation of his body against his, raced through his mind. He swallowed, pleading with himself to not outwardly show just how devastated he currently felt.

"You don't have to tell me. I think I know." A lecherous grin was plastered on Knives' visage, unnerving his twin beyond belief. "Did he finish? Or did you wake up too soon?" The first tear that slipped from the corner of the gunman's eye made him laugh callously. "Why don't you keep imagining _Wolfy-" _he spat the name with incredible disdain, "-and _I'll _finish, hm?"

Swiftly, Knives withdrew from his brother and easily flipped him on to his stomach. Vash immediately struggled to get away, adamantly protested vocally, but his energy was seemingly non-existent; with no trouble whatsoever and little effort, Knives kept him pinned down to the bed. To exert his dominance even more, Knives' sharp fingernails raked along the entire length of the jagged gash on the outlaw's back. The still relatively fresh wound was ripped open once again, blood rising to the surface and coloring the older twin's fingertips red. There was a period of seconds where Vash could barely breathe due to the insufferable torment; when his voice returned, he let out a heart-wrenching wail. It was magnificent music to his brother's ears; the sight and sound of his plight were gratifying, pleasant assaults on all of Knives' senses.

The white-haired man smeared the new blood on to various places of Vash's dorsal side before his hand went to the back of the other male's skull to keep his face buried in the pillow underneath it.

"Knives stop! _Stop!_ Leave me alone!"

The blonde's yelling was muffled to the point where Knives could hardly hear him. "You'll be fine. I'm almost done."

Vash screamed as his twin entered him. His muscles hadn't recovered from the previous night's attack, causing him to be blinded by agony from feeling as if they were tearing apart all over again. He couldn't stop himself from sobbing uncontrollably, his fingers clawing and grabbing at the sheet covering the mattress. With every grunt his brother made, Vash squealed in pain.

_HELP ME! NICHOLAS! PLEASE! _he silently shouted. _Wolfy….Come back…._

After what felt like thirty minutes, Knives ejaculated within the younger plant and laid down beside him without a word. Save for the involuntary spasms his body made due to the uneven, short breaths caused by his irrepressible crying, Vash didn't move. Knives simply stared at him, a mixture of aversion and love for his brother filling him.

_He'd be perfect, so much more beautiful if he had re-generated new flesh to get rid of those scars, _Knives thought wistfully. _And if he weren't so concerned with human garbage._

"_Vash," _he reached out telepathically. There was a moment that went by before he received a reply.

"_Leave me alone."_

He sighed and sat up. _"Alright. You can stay here for now."_

In the time Knives took a shower and got dressed, Vash had not stirred whatsoever; he was just as Knives had left him.

It wasn't until the door was closed did Vash roll on to his back, wincing and whimpering with every second it took to do so.

"_Just hang in there. Just a little while longer….until I get to you…."_

He rested his arm across his chest in an attempt to hug himself.

Exhaling a tremulous breath, he spoke wearily, "Wolfy….I really wish you were here with me."

* * *

><p>The Punisher and all of its components were cleaned and fully loaded with ammunition. Three hundred iles were what separated him from finally confronting the battle that had been set up for him. Vash had lost his; Wolfwood vowed not to have the same outcome with the one awaiting him.<p>

He settled on traveling in the morning. It was already approaching evening; by the time he'd reach the orphanage, it'd be night and although the darkness could prove useful in helping him arrive without detection, his enemies could use it to their advantage as well with skillful ambushes. Now there was one more night to get lost in alcohol, to come to terms with the death of his closest friend. One more night to be alive.

Raising a bottle of what always seemed to be Vash's favorite drink, Wolfwood said quietly, "Here's to you, Spikey. Rest in peace….With love…."

He downed what remained of the Wild Turkey in no time, slamming the glass container on to the table afterward. For a time, he stared at the label as if reading it, though to anyone that looked closely at him, it was clear his mind was elsewhere. His lips eventually quirked upward in a smile and he gave a light laugh.

Crossing his right middle finger over his index one, he murmured softly, "For love and peace."


	9. Nothing Left to Lose

**A/N: **Much thanks to **Lady Geuna! **Will have a little surprise for you next chapter I hope you like :)

* * *

><p>Contrary to what he expected, Knives hadn't bothered returning to the room to attack him or check to see how he was doing in over an hour. Ever since the other man had left, Vash had kept himself as comfortable as possible on the bed. The sheet had absorbed the blood from his cut, and when he finally sat up, a long, red streak remained as a stain. Dangling his legs over the side of the mattress, he paused to take a deep breath, closed his eyes, and exhaled slowly. During the time he was alone, he would occasionally begin to tremble and be on the verge of tears as anxiety took control of him, sending him in to a small panic. After it happening numerous times within the hour, he at last started to try and prevent it by putting all of his focus in to breathing steadily and counting from one to whatever until he felt at ease again.<p>

The act of standing up nearly made him faint. His legs shook, his head throbbed – he felt dizzy and tremendously weak. Every step was walked cautiously and very leisurely; even though he felt as if he were about to vomit, he was careful not to rush in order to stay upright.

By the time he reached the bathroom, he was out of breath, sweating, and quaking incessantly. He gripped the side of the sink to help balance himself for several minutes before turning on the faucet to take a drink and splash some water on to his flushed cheeks. When he eventually lifted his head, it was then that he noticed a mirror hanging in front of him. The reflection made him gasp in disbelief.

"Oh….Oh god…." he whispered, slightly choking on the words.

In the days since he had last seen himself, it was almost traumatizing to witness how much his appearance had changed. Dark circles surrounded his eyes, caused by bruising and lack of sleep. His right cheek and bottom lip were swollen and discolored; in truth, there was hardly a spot that _wasn't _black and purple or tainted with dried blood. The sight was so jarring, he didn't want to believe it was him.

Raising his hand, he delicately glided his fingertips over his face, falling tears wetting them as they traveled along the beaten skin.

"Troubling, isn't it?"

Vash turned his head sharply and wanted nothing more than to slap his brother who was now standing in the doorway of the bathroom, but was only able to respond with shuddering breaths as he cried.

"Such a hideous mess," Knives sighed disappointedly. "You just never seem to learn, though. Here-"

Vash held out the stump of his arm in a gesture to stop Knives from advancing towards him any farther. "Stay away from me," he said as threateningly as he could, voice wavering and frail.

The white-haired plant paid no attention and effortlessly forced the other man to turn and face him completely. "Let me help you."

"I don't want your help. Get away from me."

"If you don't let me, it'll just get worse."

Placing his hand against his twin's right cheek, Knives utilized his ability to heal in order to rectify the fractured bone. Vash grimaced and gritted his teeth, though after a few seconds he no longer felt the discomfort that had lingered there. The next area to care for was his two broken ribs. As the bones came together, the gunman muffled a loud groan by keeping his mouth closed and his jaw clenched.

"There," Knives announced when finished, yet let his hand linger against the outlaw's torso. "Feel better?"

There was no more pain as he breathed, making Vash begrudgingly nod his head and mumble, "Yes."

"Good. Now turn around."

The younger plant went pale, fearing what that command was meant for.

Seeing his brother's reaction and eyes alight with trepidation, Knives added, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Forgive me if I find that hard to believe."

The blue eyes were stern and serious, and Vash felt there was no choice but to trust him. Hesitantly, he put his back to Knives and flinched at the sensation of fingers combing through his hair.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking something."

A full quarter of the blonde hair was now dark brown, nearly black; Vash was unaware of the change due to it being the back of his head.

"It eats up quite a bit of your energy, I see," Knives stated more so to himself than his brother, continuing to stroke the newly colored strands.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your hair. It's begun to darken. It's a sign indicating our depletion as plants. Yours is finally showing up." He let his hand trail downward, brushed his fingertips seductively along the other man's neck, and was amused to detect Vash on the verge of a nervous breakdown just from his touch. "What's the matter?" he mocked, flicking his tongue against his brother's left shoulder. "Are you afraid of me now?"

The gunman swallowed and made a conscious effort to keep his voice even. "You flatter yourself too much, Knives."

Determined to prove himself right, Knives suddenly shoved his twin face-first against the wall, held his arm behind his back, and grinded his hips in to him. The response was all the answer he needed; Vash began shaking involuntarily, tears spilled from his eyes, and his breathing became shallow and quick.

The older plant cackled deviously and taunted, "Don't worry. I'm not going to fuck you or hurt you right now. Just verifying."

Vash inwardly berated himself for falling in to the trap so easily; in spite of his reaction, he still refused to resign himself to admitting being the least bit frightened of his brother. _"I hate you," _he expressed mentally, knowing his voice couldn't handle conveying the words with the venom he wanted.

"_Come on, you don't mean that. We're the only family we have left. Why would you say something like that?"_

Silence.

"_It hurts to hear you say that. In the end I only want what's best for you….Do you really hate me, Vash?" _He released his grip from the male's forearm and stepped away.

For a minute or so, Vash kept turned away from his twin and tried to regain his composure. Knives waited patiently for an answer.

Keeping his eyes fixated on the floor, the blonde replied honestly, _"No….I don't hate you."_

"_I'm very happy to hear that."_

After giving his brother a gentle kiss on the cheek, Knives left the room completely. Vash's stomach tightened, prompting him to quickly lift the lid of the toilet as he felt the bile rising. What tiny amount of energy he had remaining was rapidly stolen away as he threw up and dry heaved a number of times.

Naked and alone, he laid on the tiled ground, holding himself the best he could, and wept.

* * *

><p>He wasn't sure how long he was on the floor for; it was a relief that Knives hadn't surprised him again by showing up without warning.<p>

It required every ounce of strength he possessed to make his way to the table in the room. Luckily for him, some of the food that had been offered to him previously was still there. Little by little, he ate half a turkey sandwich, a couple of sausage links, an apple, and downed a glass of both water and orange juice. After slipping in to his pants, he fetched another apple from the table and decided on trying the door on the off chance it was unlocked. Much to his bewilderment, it was.

Cautiously, he poked his head out and carefully surveyed both ends of the hallway. No one. From a distance, he could hear men's voices, but nothing close by. Rejecting his body's pleas to stay and rest some more, he pushed through the severe discomfort in his feet and backside and stepped outside of the room.

_What am I doing? I don't know where anything is on this ship; where am I going?_

Disregarding his logical thoughts, he proceeded down the left side of the corridor. Whenever he heard the slightest noise, his heart pounded as he quickly glanced to wherever it came from. The fifth time it happened, he wondered if he was simply losing his mind – or worse, Knives was toying with him.

He traveled through a handful of foyers, passed by closed doors, and at last ended up in an area he was familiar with. Entering the large space, he spent a few minutes exploring the parts of the room he hadn't paid attention to the last time he was there. A couple of long, metal tables were near the back, decorated with various chemistry-looking equipment, papers scattered everywhere, and folders. He was about to walk away when one label on a manila envelope caught his eye. Beside it was a small cup with a lid on it. Upon reading what was written on the glass, he felt incredibly embarrassed and violated; the words "SPECIMEN – VASH'S SEMEN" along with the date it was obtained were printed in bold, black handwriting. Hoping there was something contained in the envelope with his name on it that would give him answers, he dumped out the papers and rapidly read over the few notes that had been taken down.

_PROJECT V: _

_Attempt creation of new Plant with free-will_

_Day 1_

_-Indirect injection in to Plant #15 at 1300H_

_Day 2_

_-No change in vitals/readings_

_Day 3_

Vash crumpled the page and angrily threw it aside. The memories of his brother using the excuse of mating – of wanting to reproduce another plant like them – in order to have sexual intercourse with him ran through his mind; at first he had always tried to refuse, but Knives was determined and always overpowered him. After approximately the tenth time it happened, he quit putting up a struggle and submitted himself to Knives whenever his twin wanted him. Ultimately, it stopped being about re-creating another plant and became an act of asserting control over him the majority of the time.

He shuffled to the middle of the room, surrounded on both sides by glass capsules containing his sisters. Sitting cross-legged on the ground, he sighed and closed his eyes.

_I can't ever tell him I hope that there's never a plant like us again, _he thought somewhat guiltily. _We're terrible things; we cause nothing but destruction and suffering….I wouldn't want to take the chance of there being another of us and turning out to be like him…._

He brought his knees to his chest and rested his head against them.

_I really do think it would've been best if he and I were never born….She said we were miracles, angels….She was wrong…._

"_VASH!"_

The sudden, furious way in which Knives yelled his name in his mind caused him to scramble to his feet as fear overtook him. He looked every which way for somewhere to hide, sensing the speedy approach of his brother with each second. By the time he saw a spot that would conceal him, the double doors flew open and a group of men filed in; Knives and Legato followed after. Upon the discovery of Vash in the room, all of them surrounded him, leaving an open space for the Master and head follower to stand in front of him.

"I….I-I-I wasn't…." Vash stuttered, visibly shaken and petrified as he stared wide-eyed at his twin. "I wasn't t-t-trying to escape, I-I swear."

A trembling cry sounded from him as he lost control of his limbs to Legato's unique talent and slammed against the floor onto his stomach. He winced and groaned as his body contorted – his feet rested on either side of his head and his arm slid across his back until it laid almost entirely beside him to his left. Sweat shined on his skin; quiet, weak noises of pain were all that could be heard for a period until Knives began to speak.

"How long do you think I should have him keep you like this?"

Vash gave a noisy wail as his head turned to the right, craning his neck almost to the breaking point.

"When will you learn to behave yourself? When will you learn to STOP DEFYING ME?!"

As his wrist twisted until it broke, Vash shrieked, "I'M SORRY! I WON'T AGAIN! STOP!"

It was a lengthy moment before Knives nodded to Legato. The gunman went limp, yet there was no time to recover, for he was roughly hoisted up by two men and practically dragged behind his brother. He was hauled to the room with The Hole and was forcefully thrown down in to it. Shifting to lie on his back, he gazed up in to his twin's icy blue eyes, though said nothing.

"You're fortunate I don't do anything else to you right now," Knives stated in a tone of generosity. He was about to walk away, but then paused as if an idea had suddenly come to him. "Oh, before I leave, I did just get some news you might be interested in hearing."

Amongst the expression of utter misery painted on his visage, the blonde was able to show intrigue at the sentence.

"I regret to have to tell you this," he started sarcastically, "but I was informed, while you were having your little adventure, that the one you so lovingly refer to as 'Wolfy' is dead." The sheer despondency and shock in the younger plant's green eyes in response was exquisite.

"Wh-what?"

"Executed by some of the best."

Vash's throat constricted, making it difficult to talk, to breathe. He felt as if his world was splintering apart, just like when Rem had died. "N….No….That can't be true," he whispered wretchedly. "Don't say that….Don't say that."

"He's dead, Vash. Food for the buzzards now."

Malicious laughter resonated throughout the open space as the metal grate was closed over the confinement pit. As Knives and his men exited, he became completely aroused from the heartbreaking, tragic screams coming from his brother.

It was very evident that the lie did more to devastate his twin than any physical trauma ever could.

* * *

><p>It was eight the next morning when Wolfwood loaded up his and Vash's belongings along with his cross into the side car of the bike, ready to take off for the barren desert north of the city. Instead of his usual black sunglasses, he donned the yellow ones that Vash had given him, somewhat hoping they would provide him with inner strength; at the very least, they could damn well serve as a reminder that there was something worth continuing to fight for after all of this was over with today.<p>

"As good a time as any," he mumbled, turning on the ignition and sped out of town.

* * *

><p>Approximately four hours later and two iles from the orphanage, Wolfwood parked the motorcycle and traveled the remaining distance on foot. Once the building was in sight, he thought it looked smaller than when he had left it; one thing was certain – it was oddly quiet. There were no kids running around out front, playing; there was hardly a sign of life at all. As he cautiously approached, he could see the façade had been sprayed with bullets, making him greatly worry if there were any survivors – or if it was just to play with his mind.<p>

He was highly alert, eyes and ears tuned to any sort of movement. The instant the front door opened, he planted his cross in front of him to shield himself from any rounds. There were none; only one person emerged from inside with weapons not aimed, and upon closer inspection of the man's face, Wolfwood smirked.

"Wasn't expecting you to be the one to do her dirty work," he stated frankly. "In fact, I never expected to see you again in this lifetime, Crybaby Livio."

"It's Double Fang now, actually. And I'm here to take out the traitorous trash," Livio replied indifferently, folding his arms over his chest, fingers poised on the triggers of the cross-shaped machine guns he held in each hand.

"You alone?"

A contemptuous glare was the reply.

"In that case, should I even bother offering you a chance at redemption? A chance to live?"

"It's not necessary; your death is all I care about right now."

Wolfwood picked up his weapon with one hand, while the other removed a pistol from inside his jacket. "So be it. Never thought it would come to this between us, but there you have it."

Taking a last look at the surroundings, noting any possible places that would offer any protection, it was then the priest noticed three crosses nearly identical to his own Punisher lying at the threshold to the orphanage.

_Great….Not only do I have to worry about the crybaby, I've got Razlo Trip of Death too. Lovely, _he thought with a heavy sigh.

"You should've kept your priorities straight, Wolfwood," Livio chastised gravely. "Instead of sleeping with the enemy."

The preacher's right eye twitched at not only the notion of Vash being called such a thing, but from his private relations with the Humanoid Typhoon being known by someone else as well.

"Or maybe you should've just stayed here; you might have lived longer."

With a snicker, Wolfwood leveled his gun at his former childhood friend. "_You_ should've never left."

* * *

><p>For a meager ten minutes or so at a time, the tears would stop; the moment he began weeping again, his entire body shook as he mourned without restraint. He wasn't sure how there were any tears left to shed; it had been hours since Knives had delivered the verbal blow. In truth, he had been in the containment cell the entire night, and there was no indication that he'd be getting out anytime soon.<p>

Now that the second person he loved with all of his being was gone, he started to wonder if his survival at the mercy of Knives' hands was worth it.

"Wol….Wolfwood…." Vash uttered softly in a strangled voice, water droplets cascading downward into his hair. "Wh-wha….what should I do?" His breathing was unsteady and quick, sounding like hiccups at times. "I couldn't s-save Rem and now….I couldn't save you….What am I good for? I c-can't do anything….What's the point? He killed you both!" Closing his eyes, he moved to lie as much on his left side as he could; the space didn't allow him much room, leaving the majority of his body to still rest on his back. "Why can't I be next?" he whispered, accompanied by quiet, wounded whines.

Standing near the door and where Vash couldn't spot him, Knives listened amusedly to his brother's worthless attempt at seeking guidance. After a couple of minutes of silence, he reached out to him telepathically.

"_Vash." _For a period, there was no response, prompting him to call to him once more. _"Vash."_

"_What do you want?" _the blonde answered, his tone drenched in despair.

"_Your personal connection to humans is now gone. There's no reason to keep fighting on their behalf."_

"…_.Go away….Leave me alone."_

"_I'll leave you to think about it."_

Knives grinned, feeling as if he was finally chipping away at his twin's idiotic principles. There was still resistance, but in the few short days they had been reunited, he felt Vash's opposition already giving way.

By his calculations, it wouldn't be much longer before he could mold the younger plant to be just as he desired.

* * *

><p>A wave of bullets sprayed past Wolfwood less than a second after ducking around the corner of the orphanage. He hurriedly reloaded the two pistols he was currently using, deciding against opening the Punisher for new ones. Not until he was out of ammunition stowed in his pockets would he go to them.<p>

He had done his best to keep their fight away from the building in case anyone was left inside, but there was really no other place that offered protection; no boulders and certainly no trees – just flat, open desert. It was inevitable that they each landed several hits on the other; currently, Wolfwood was recovering from two in the shoulder and one a piece in his chest and abdomen. He had a couple of vials left of the rejuvenating serum, though those would be a last resort, only when he was severely incapacitated. It was quite apparent that Livio had been privy to as much of the drug as he had over the years; with the handful of rounds Wolfwood had been able to land in him, the assassin continued to move as fast as ever and seemed to hardly be affected whatsoever from the wounds.

"Give it up, Wolfwood!" Livio shouted. "This is a battle you're not going to win!"

Taking the Punisher in hand, he braved looking around the corner and aimed a mortar in the other man's direction. "I beg to differ!" he retorted, firing the weapon from the left portion of the cross.

While Livio was busy dodging the explosion, Wolfwood seized the opportunity to run to the back of the orphanage, kicked open the closest door, and took a position in the front foyer. There would be a small period of time where he would have the advantage; once he shot, his new hiding spot would be discovered. He _had _to make it count.

It had been quite some time since he'd felt this kind of rush that came from combat. His heart raced an ile a minute. Sweat covered him like a hot blanket. More than once, his arms quaked when he aimed. The adrenaline was high – not as if it wasn't whenever he was in a skirmish with Vash, but those instances were different. With Vash, he was never worried about his safety or losing; he knew he could depend on the Humanoid Typhoon to make sure nothing disastrous happened to either of them. This time, there was only himself to rely on.

_Spikey….if you're up there….Just see me through this, alright? You owe me. You weren't supposed to die. Not yet. I'm gonna need your help on this one._

Adjusting the yellow-tinted frames on his face, he cautiously pushed open a window shutter and peered outside. It was a minute or so before he spotted Livio starting to traverse the area towards the opposite side of the building where he had been. He propped the bottom of the Punisher on the windowsill and fired. Livio was knocked aside as the bullets penetrated the right half of his body, though he remained standing. With a quick glance in Wolfwood's direction, the Gung-Ho Gun commenced sprinting to the preacher's former protective spot around the corner. He wasn't quick enough; Wolfwood riddled his back with bullets until he at last collapsed to the ground. It was tempting to celebrate, however the former Eye of Michael member refused to underestimate the rate of his foe's rapid healing ability. If he was lucky, too much damage had been dealt for Livio to bounce back from, and even if the assassin did drink a vial, it would be too late to take effect.

Working fast, Wolfwood reloaded the machine gun and bolted out the front door. Much to his amazement, there was nothing to see except for a large puddle of blood where the man had fallen. Frenziedly, he scanned the area around him, and it was then he noticed the three crosses that had been at the doorstep when he arrived were gone.

"Shit," he breathed. "He's here." _If Livio is still alive….this could be bad._

The sudden _clink _of something hitting the building caught his attention. Upon discovering what the object was, he darted inside. After a mere five seconds since striking the edifice, the grenade detonated, sending him flying forward. Debris rained on him, causing him to put his hands on the back of his head to shield his skull. As he made to get up, he groaned loudly from the pain in his back and legs. Numerous pieces of metal shrapnel had embedded themselves in his flesh.

_Come on, Nick! MOVE IT!_

Struggling to stand, he proceeded away in to the kitchen just as a hailstorm of ammunition blasted towards him. There were a couple of windows and a side door to the outside; he mouthed a silent "Thank god" from ending up in a room with a few exits and therefore, not being cornered like a mouse. He jumped, startled, and covered his ears with his hands from explosives crashing against the front of the building and shaking the entire foundation. There were three thunderous blasts, cementing the fact Trip of Death had arrived.

"Okay okay, think," Wolfwood muttered to himself. "Not going to beat him with fire power. Gotta outsmart him….at least get _one _of those things out of his hands."

"COME ON OUT, WOLFWOOD!"

An expression of immense confusion swept across the preacher's countenance. The voice sounded much like Livio's, but there was something off about it. _Couldn't be, _he mused.

There was no time to attain confirmation on whether or not he was up against one or two people; bullets filled the area like a swarm of insects.

"Time to leave!" he shouted to himself and quickly bolted out the door.

Darting around to the front of the orphanage, he settled on ambushing from behind. Amidst the rubble in what used to be the entry way, a lone figure stood with hair sticking out in all directions as well as swooped down over the right side of his face. Each hand possessed a large cross; an extra arm protruding from his back also wielded one. Wolfwood fired both his Punisher's machine gun and his pistol at the new foe. The stream of shells seemed to do nothing more than agitate the madman, didn't even hinder him despite getting hit with most of them, leaving him free to turn around and shoot in Wolfwood's direction.

"Shit!"

As the priest ran for cover, a number of bullets pierced his back and arms. He tumbled to the ground, panting and hissing. Before he knew it, the wild eyes of Razlo were staring down at him, hungry for death.

"Livio, listen to me if you're in there, god damn it," Wolfwood sputtered, coughing blood.

An unsettling grin spanned across Razlo's face. "He's letting me handle this now."

"Not too late to change….To make things right…."

"Traitor, traitor," the assassin laughed. "Ready to die?"

"Just wait a fucking minute! Even if I didn't kill you today, what makes you think you'll end up any differently? He'll kill you too; you're not a plant!"

Razlo pointed the cross in his right hand at Wolfwood, signaling the end of the conversation. In the blink of an eye, Wolfwood kicked the man's legs out from under him, causing him to fall to the earth on his back. Pinning the two real arms down with his knees and the cybernetic one with his hand, Wolfwood straddled his killer and lodged two rounds in to Razlo's neck. Not quite satisfied yet, the preacher beat the barrel of his gun against the rogue personality's skull. Only when the man's eyes closed and he was obviously unconscious did Wolfwood drop his weapon and relaxed.

By his guess, the violent blows would allow him thirty minutes at least before Razlo regained consciousness. Acting as if he wasn't on a time schedule, he removed a cigarette from one of the inside breast pockets of his jacket, lit it, and took a long, well-earned drag from it. The familiar, calming habit helped him cope with the agony he was in as his body slowly started to repair itself.

"Guess it'll be a fifty-fifty chance I'll get the more level-headed one back," he grumbled. "Still don't like those odds."

Once his cigarette was smoked to the last little bit, he tossed it aside, slung the Gung-Ho Gun over his shoulder, and limped to what was left of the heavily destroyed orphanage.

* * *

><p>It was an hour later when the captive woke up. He was securely tied to a chair and sitting across from him, cigarette in mouth, was Wolfwood.<p>

"So," the preacher began smoothly. "Which one of you am I currently speaking to?"

"Livio," was the firm, unamused reply.

"Good."

"You gonna kill me? It'd be in your best interest to do so."

"I wouldn't be much of a priest if I didn't forgive you first, would I? Now before that, and before you choose your path, let's talk."


	10. The Forgotten

**A/N: **Much thanks to the reviewers for last chapter! It was great seeing a new person give some feedback, and the lovely Lady G as always! :)

* * *

><p>"So what happened to the kids? Did you kill them?"<p>

"I gave them the chance to leave. The threat of being shot was enough to clear them out."

"Hm. You do still have a bit of a heart."

"I'm surprised at you, Wolfwood. Since when did you become all about righteousness and doing good in the world?"

Wolfwood lit the end of his cigarette and continuously turned the lighter over and over again in his hand. "Ever since I found-"

"God?"

"-A moral compass, you could say."

"Was it _him?" _Livio raised an eyebrow from seeing the other man glance downward somewhat dejectedly at the object in his palm.

After a pause, Wolfwood answered, "Doesn't matter. As it stands now, everyone on this planet is going to die, including you."

"And?"

"There's a better way to live. A life without constant violence and death. We both had no real choice when it came to joining this organization when we were kids. But now, I'm offering you a chance to join me in a choice to cut all ties with it. You can finally have a purpose, finally mean something to someone."

"What do you care?"

"Because I think deep down, you're still that sweet little kid you used to be….without the bed-wetting. That kid deserves a chance at life. Knives won't keep you around forever."

If Razlo had been the one to wake up, Wolfwood knew he would've had no chance in Hell at swaying him to switch alliances; there was no appealing to that psychopath's side of human decency because he had none. With Livio, there was hope.

"Listen to me, Livio. If you could go back, wouldn't you want to lead a normal life? Be a regular kid? _Enjoy _living?"

"You can't go back to the past, Wolfwood."

"No, you can't. But you can help to ensure no child will have to go through what we did. Someone once told me the ticket to the future is always blank; it's not too late to start over. You can help kids not only _have _a future, but one that's worth living for."

Wolfwood could discern, little by little, the certainty and anger begin to wane in the assassin's eyes.

"You had the perfect opportunity to kill me," Livio stated quietly, "and yet you didn't. You're the one person who ever really showed any interest in being a friend to me. I'm not saying I'm changing loyalties, but what could I do to repay you?"

"I need your help. Vash is dead, and I'm going to finish what he couldn't."

"You know that for sure? You saw it happen?"

"No, but how could he not be? Last I saw him, he was headed out the door to confront Knives. In the past few days, there have been plants stolen and massacres, therefore, Vash didn't succeed."

"I don't think he's dead. And you shouldn't have let him go alone."

"I had no choice! I was made to believe I had to come back here to protect the orphanage!"

"It wasn't only just a plan to execute you; it was to make sure you wouldn't help him. Vash didn't stand a chance, Nick."

"So what makes you think he's still alive?"

"The longer I spent time with the guy, the more and more I became convinced Knives is creepily obsessed with his brother; there are things he would say….I highly doubt he would've killed him."

Wolfwood's heart sped up from not only the joy of Vash's possible existence, but from great worry and revulsion as well. He remembered, during the last night they had spent together, the blonde confessing to him the intimate relationship he had shared with his twin. The two plants had spent decades apart – should it really be any surprise if Knives had taken Vash captive in order to fulfill certain needs?

"Oh my god," Wolfwood mumbled, burying his face in his hand. "Shit. I _knew _I shouldn't have let him go alone."

Livio regarded the priest for a moment, noting the sadness and regret in his demeanor. "You really care about him, don't you?"

With a heavy sigh, Wolfwood answered plainly, "Yeah, I do."

"And you really fucked him?"

The preacher tossed his cigarette to the floor and squished it under his boot. His lack of reply was confirmation.

Giving a laugh, Livio said, "You sure have changed. Never pegged you to be that type."

"Things just got a little out of control one night."

"Really?"

"Really," Wolfwood answered more firmly, agitated.

"How many times did it happen?"

"….Three."

"You better hope Knives doesn't find out. He'd murder you himself if you weren't already supposed to be dead by now. And for Vash's sake, if he's alive, you better hope real hard."

"Stop it. I don't even want to think about it. Are you going to help me or do I cut off your head right now?"

"Well when you put it like that…." He sighed and smiled slightly. "I never would've thought I'd ever be given a choice again….freedom….Somehow, you make me believe it's possible."

"And Razlo?"

"I'll take care of it."

Wolfwood stood and untied his new ally; there was a part of him that expected Livio to take up his weapons and open fire, but it wasn't to be the case. Instead, the other man offered his hand, and Wolfwood accepted it with a firm shake.

* * *

><p>It was late evening when Livio and Wolfwood arrived in December. They ignored the frightened stares they received from everyone they passed due to the vast amount of blood stains on their clothes.<p>

Settling in to a hotel room, they sat across from one another on their separate beds, beer bottles in hand.

"What's the plan of attack?" Livio asked.

"Not sure. You have any ideas?"

"The Ark returns to the base site outside of Johnson City and drops off the collected plants. It can only hold two to three at a time and doesn't travel very fast; by the time we make it there, we might be able to intercept it leaving the newly gathered bulbs."

"Think we can storm the place ourselves?"

"Is there another way?"

"None that I can think of at the moment. We've got a lot of distance to cover, though. Might be able to come up with something else in that time."

Livio chugged a good amount of his alcohol before sighing and stating gloomily, "Even if we make it to him, I don't know if we'll be able to take him out. He's been absorbing the energy from other plants; he's practically indestructible now."

"If Vash _is _still alive, maybe we can create an opportunity for him to blast Knives with that Angel Arm of his. It's the most powerful weapon on the planet; it'd _have _to at least cripple him a bit."

"That's very possible."

A few hours passed, and while Livio had fallen asleep easily, Wolfwood remained wide awake. He was sore and tired, though the thought of the Humanoid Typhoon being alive kept him from resting.

_I swear, if he's got you, Spikey….if he's hurt you….I'll kill him myself. _

* * *

><p>For the entirety of the day, Vash had been alone in the open coffin with nothing but his thoughts, memories, and physical and emotional pain. Once, Knives had come by in order to heal his broken wrist; no words were exchanged, and Vash had refused to even look at him. Gradually, the grief gave way to intense rage. The tears were no more; his eyes were dry and full of resentment. In his heart, there was a feeling he was vastly unfamiliar with and had only experienced a handful of times: vengeance.<p>

On the second morning since he had been locked away, a group of three men opened the iron grate and pulled him out. The instant they let go of him, he collapsed to the floor, his legs too weak to support his weight. He tried to get up on his own, yet his body wouldn't cooperate.

"Come on!" one of the men yelled at him, accompanying his words with a kick to the gunman's stomach. "We don't have all day."

Feebly, Vash attempted once again, but the result was the same. "I can't stand up," he admitted quietly in a hoarse voice, embarrassed.

"Wonderful," was the sarcastic reply. "Robert, you get him."

The man Vash assumed to be Robert lifted him to his feet, slung the blonde's arm across his shoulders, and put his own arm around the plant's waist. They exited the room and escorted their Master's brother to the servants' shower block. A bottle of shampoo, a bar of soap, and a washcloth awaited him in one of the stalls. After obeying the order to strip, Vash was shoved inside and immediately fell to the ground. Water poured down on him, and instead of struggling to stand and bathe right away, he simply hugged his knees to his chest and rested his forehead against them. Breathing in deeply, he savored the relaxing, refreshing feeling the water gave him. Just as when Knives had bathed him, he imagined all of the repugnant, obscene impurities that tainted his body inside and out being rinsed away.

_I'm so dirty, Nick; even if you were still alive, I would've never been able to allow myself to touch you again. Never would've been able to feel your hands on me either; I couldn't let you do that….I'll treasure what we shared, always wishing we had more. I really miss you…._

He raised his head, letting the water fall on to his bruised face.

_I don't know how long he intends to keep me around for; is it wrong to hope it'll be over soon? I could finally be completely at peace….Yet….I still can't help but think that I have to keep trying….Your deaths cannot be in vain…._

It took everything he had to stand and remain standing. Leisurely, he did his best to shampoo his hair and scrub the grime from his body with the soap and washcloth. It was tempting to stay under the showerhead for much longer, though an unfriendly voice warned him to hurry along.

Shutting off the faucet, he pulled back the curtain and caught the towel that was thrown at him. As he dried himself, he heard one of them say, "Disgusting," followed by verbal agreement from the others. It almost caused him to feel shame until he suddenly remembered Wolfwood's admiring words from his dream; it brought a minute smile to his lips.

He was given a clean pair of navy blue pants to wear, and as they traveled along back to his room, Knives intercepted them.

"Ah, there you are. I figured you'd be returned by now," the white-haired twin spoke and approached his brother. Vash's head was bowed, prompting Knives to ask, "Still not talking to me? Still brooding? You always are so emotional, Vash. All of this because of some worthless human garbage. I, for one, am happy he's dead. No question that you belong solely to me and always will. I forgive you for your lapse in judgment, contaminating yourself by fornicating with him."

At last, Vash slowly raised his head to stare at his brother with glowing, blue eyes. He saw the stunned, alarmed expression sweep over Knives' visage before his clenched fist slammed against the older plant's temple. The force was practically equal to a sledgehammer, knocking the man instantly unconscious and to the floor.

It was a short moment before the three shocked servants sprang to action. Vash put up no fight as he was thrown to the ground, struck numerous times by hands and boots, and dragged away back to what he had begun calling the "torture den." He was forced to his feet, arm extended upward, and a metal cuff clasped around his wrist to keep him chained in place. As the minutes passed, his anger subsided and incredible unease consumed him; the realization of what he had done finally sank in.

"Oh god, Wolfy," he whispered, eyes wide in panic. "I'm in trouble."

* * *

><p>It had been an hour and still, there'd been no news on what Vash's punishment was to be. He knew he wasn't fortunate enough to escape retribution; in Knives' eyes, he had done something unforgivable, something that could not be excused or let go so easily. He had done one of the worst things possible: rebelled against his brother and did so in front of his followers.<p>

Finally, the door opened, and Vash felt somewhat relieved to discover it wasn't Knives. Even though Legato could cause him intense discomfort, he knew it paled in comparison to what he knew his twin was capable of making him live through.

"How is he?" he asked fretfully.

"Still out cold. It appears I'll have to exert myself more to keep you under control."

"What do you mean?"

"It is my duty to ensure that you are not able to use your abilities."

"The Angel Arm? I don't understand."

Legato smirked. "You are capable of more than just that enormous, destructive weapon. Granted, it is the most valuable one you possess, but you can manipulate it in other ways, along with your strength. The more hatred and rage you feel, the stronger you become. Of course, my Master already knows all of this; you would do well to learn from him. Yet, you continue to oppose him-"

"Because he's wrong. There is nothing he can do that would ever make me join him."

Legato suddenly took hold of the prisoner by the jaw in an iron grip and snaked his tongue along the length of Vash's neck and cheek. The sensation was revolting, though the gunman provided no reaction; it became even more difficult to remain stoic as the servant licked the other side of his face and his lips. Legato at last pulled away and looked to be savoring the taste, causing Vash to experience a wave of nausea.

"What the hell was that for?!" the outlaw asked indignantly.

"Like you, I too was once used solely for the pleasure and domination of men; but unlike you, I have never been able to serve my Master in such a way. There may come a time where he will share you; however, he will never grace me with himself. You are his twin, and even though your body repulses me, you are the closest I will ever come to having him."

"There is no way I will ever yield to you in that manner."

A callous laugh sounded before Legato stated bluntly, "You are not in a position to object. I will delight in whatever he decides to punish you with, yet I would also like to subject you to my own until he awakes."

Vash quirked an eyebrow as Legato unlocked him from the chain. He soon felt the familiar sensation of his body falling under the other man's control, compelling him to drop down onto his knees and hand.

Swallowing his anxiety, he casually asked, "What, no bed? Figured you'd at least want to be comfortable."

"I'm not feeling up to degrading you with that method today. In light of recent events, I think your hand deserves some attention. Perhaps I can teach you to never harm my Master again."

Curling his fingers in to a fist except for his index one, Vash fought against the invisible force manipulating him, yet it was of no use. The tip pressed against the floor, his wrist rocked forward to make the digit as perpendicular to the ground as possible, and he pushed down; Legato lent more weight for the finger to support with a hand pressing heavily on the blonde's shoulder. Vash began to breathe faster and utter noises of pain; it wasn't long until the joint at the middle knuckle gave way, making him wail in agony. The finger hung limply beside his now extended middle one. The same process was applied. As his ring finger stretched out, tears spilled from his eyes, mixing with the beads of sweat rolling down his face. He groaned loudly in misery as the joint was dislodged.

Once his fourth met its fate, he was permitted to rest back in a kneeling position and carefully, delicately, brought his hand to his chest near the stump of his arm as if to cradle it. He was shaking, panting, and constantly wincing; numerous whimpers mixed in with his labored breaths. A pleased, entertained chuckle sounded from the side, though he did nothing to acknowledge it even as Legato started to speak.

"Seeing you like this brings me great satisfaction. The cries of torture that come from you are delicious."

"You're sick," Vash spat weakly. "Getting pleasure from someone else's pain."

"You deserve to experience the utmost suffering. While I'd like to leave you as you are now, I wouldn't want to upset my Master. I would hate for him to discover I've disobeyed his order."

"What's that? Only _he _can touch me, is that it?"

"He can be very possessive. If only you would appreciate it."

Vash watched as his arm stretched out towards Legato, unable to battle the servant's power. He stared directly in to the unsympathetic, gold eyes, determined to show his resilience was still present. The first finger Legato jerked and twisted until the joint realigned correctly made him clench his jaw in an attempt to muffle his wounded shriek. Through his anguish, he was inwardly seething in response to the thrilled grin plastered on the other man's countenance. As the second was being fixed, he openly cried out and wept, yet still didn't let his eyes stray from Legato's. A tinge of pride welled within him upon noticing the servant's eyes cloud with irritation, no doubt from his refusal to glance away and acknowledge defeat.

After what seemed like thirty minutes, his fingers were mended, albeit terribly swollen and throbbing excruciatingly. The two men continued to regard one another contemptuously for a period before Vash smiled defiantly.

"Feel better now?" the outlaw questioned disdainfully.

A loud _slap _resonated in the room from Legato striking the blonde's cheek. "You should be thanking me. It was far less than what you deserve. I hope he has something much worse waiting for you."

Vash was forced to stand and chained up once again. Fingers glided along his neck seductively, and it was difficult to stay passive. He was tempted to bite them, but wisely decided against it. The servant left shortly afterward, leaving Vash to dwell on the pain engulfing his whole hand and the dread of what his brother would retaliate with.

* * *

><p>It was quite some time later when Legato returned. Vash's eyes strayed to the monstrous needle in his right hand and then to the man's face to gather any sort of unspoken explanation. The expression was one of smug satisfaction, one that suggested he was privy to information Vash had yet to know.<p>

"Back for more fun?" the gunman inquired tartly.

"My Master has awoken. I'm excited for what awaits you."

Without another word, Legato jammed the needle in to the plant's neck and injected a sedative. It was mere seconds before Vash's vision became blurry and then suddenly, all went black.

* * *

><p>A faint groan escaped from Vash as he wearily opened his eyes, the floor being the first thing to see. As he awoke, he became increasingly aware of the awkward, uncomfortable position he was in – he was on his feet, legs spread little more than shoulder-width apart, bent forward with his torso horizontal to the ground, and his arm was extended upward behind him to the point where it was almost completely perpendicular to his back; a metal cuff around his wrist was secured to a chain hanging from the ceiling, making him unable to lower his arm whatsoever. The strain in his shoulder, outstretched limb, and legs was discomforting, though not quite painful for the time being. He attempted to bend his knees slightly and move them closer together, but it was as if an invisible bar was situated between them; his guess was that Legato was no doubt nearby. To make him feel even more vulnerable, his one piece of clothing had been removed.<p>

The tiniest bit of movement caused aching in his shoulder, convincing him to remain as still as possible. The position alone was demeaning in his opinion; it troubled him to imagine just what else Knives had in store for him.

"You look very appetizing like this, dearest brother."

Vash glanced ahead to where the voice had come from. As Knives drew nearer, the outlaw grinned complacently from seeing he had left a mark on the other man for a change. The area where he had hit the older plant was quite swollen and grotesquely bruised.

"And you look very un-perfect," the gunman retorted. He grimaced as Knives yanked on his hair to bring his head up farther. There was a moment of stillness before he was fiercely punched numerous times by his twin.

"There," Knives announced when he was finished, releasing his grip on the blonde locks. "Now we match."

Blood droplets splashed on to the floor from Vash's nose and mouth. His head and face throbbed, which seemingly alleviated the pulsating pain from his hand as a result.

"All of this because of some worthless human!" Knives roared furiously. "Insignificant, inferior being! You-"

"I loved him!" Vash shouted vehemently, raising his head once again to stare directly at his infuriated brother. He didn't care what the repercussions might be because of those words, didn't cower from the enraged fire burning in the blue eyes gazing back at him. Boldly he repeated, "I loved him. Nothing you do to me will _ever _change that."

A minute passed before Knives responded to the passionate statements. "You care too much for humans. Let's see how you feel about them after they do the most emasculating thing one could ever do to a man. I've gathered some of my best, most loyal followers here to help me administer this lesson to you. While I'm reluctant to, you've already been contaminated by a human, so it really doesn't make a difference how many times it happens, does it?"

"What are you saying?" Vash asked apprehensively.

"Humans are capable of committing appalling acts; judging by the scars on your body, you've obviously been on the receiving end of some already. I wonder if you'd still fight for them after this one, though."

Knives made a gesture as if motioning someone forward, and Vash craned his neck in an effort to see if that was the case. A fist slammed down against the middle of the gash on his back, eliciting a hurt yelp from him.

"I've been waiting so long to make you pay for what you did to July," the man behind him said harshly. "I would've given anything to destroy you, make you suffer. Now, I at least get to make you feel like less than dirt. I lost my entire family that day, you bastard."

Vash closed his eyes, guilt consuming him as he listened to the person speak. "I'm truly sorry for your loss," he apologized solemnly. "I-"

"Shut up! Instead of talking, I want you to cry."

The outlaw's heart started beating faster upon feeling what he assumed was the man's erection prodding his backside. Frantically, his eyes locked with Knives', hoping his brother would step in and prevent the situation from escalating to what he feared it would.

"_Knives, you can't let him do this," _he communicated anxiously.

"_Perhaps you'll enjoy it. After all, you liked being fucked by a human before, didn't you? They're all the same. Someday, you'll realize this."_

"_That's not true! They are _not _all the same!"_

"_And just the other night, didn't you attack me for wanting to love you? Maybe this will make you appreciate me, once you experience your body being exploited in the vilest way by those who want nothing more than to subject you to torment, to wield their position of power over you."_

"_Just fuck me yourself if you want to humiliate me then! This is between you and me! There's no need to involve anyone else!"_

"_Say the word and I'll stop him." _

Vash gritted his teeth and glared at his twin, knowing exactly what Knives was after.

"_Well?" _the older plant questioned after several seconds of no reply.

Taking a deep breath and preparing himself mentally, Vash shook his head. Knives smirked, visibly disgusted by the answer, and nodded to the servant. With permission granted, the anonymous male began penetrating the bound prisoner. Immediately, Vash's muscles became tense, prohibiting the stranger from advancing into him past the tip; nevertheless, this did nothing to dissuade the man from continuing. Bit by bit, he pumped in and out of the outlaw's body, forcing himself roughly inside of the plant. Vash closed his eyes, his expression morphed in to one of extraordinary anguish, and he couldn't keep himself from incessantly crying out in pain any longer. The tremulous, tortured sounds that filled the room made Knives smile elatedly; he observed, without a scrap of pity in his eyes, as his brother was horrendously subjugated. In response to the provocative scene happening before him, his cock grew hard in a matter of seconds.

"_You must be tight," _he commented casually, chuckling at the offended look Vash gave him. _"You think I would've loosened you up some by now."_

"_How can you just stand there and watch?!"_

"_This is for your own good, Vash. You know I don't like hurting you, or seeing you hurt, but this will be for your benefit."_

"_STOP SAYING THAT!"_

Vash hung his head and moaned with every thrust; he felt ill from hearing the man grunting behind him.

"_Just hang in there. Just a little while longer….until I get to you…."_

He was on the verge of weeping hysterically as he remembered his dream of Wolfwood. There wasn't a point to staying strong anymore, was there? Wolfwood was dead; there was no one left willing to save him.

At last, the man went still as he climaxed, buried inside of the Humanoid Typhoon. The sensation of the person's semen pouring into him made Vash's stomach churn. He felt unbearably filthy and spent; as he panted heavily, sweat shining on his skin, he dared to gaze at his twin in an attempt to determine what was next. Suddenly, a hand latched on to his hip, and there was no warning or time to recover as another man brutally shoved his cock inside of him.

"Ah! Uhhnn…." Vash groaned, feeling pathetic and mortified. He detested being completely helpless, unable to do anything whatsoever to defend his body. His emotions shined through in his eyes, and he inwardly scolded himself the moment tears began cascading freely down his flushed cheeks. He prayed Knives wouldn't notice, but the laugh that sounded told him he wasn't that lucky.

"Despicable, worthless bastard," the servant behind him snarled. "You deserve to suffer after all you've done."

Through his yelps and erratic breathing, Vash murmured softly, "I'm sorry….I'm very sorry…."

As the man drove in and out of him, the outlaw's legs started to tremble, causing him to worry they would give way and dislocate his shoulder since his arm would be left to hold all of his weight.

It was a relief when the stranger finally came inside him three minutes later. Once his assaulter was gone, Vash sighed and bowed his head.

_Surely it's over, _he thought optimistically. There was a pang of alarm that shot through him when he felt fingernails drag across his back.

"Knives," he called shakily.

The white-haired plant raised a hand. "Wait, Marcus," he ordered as he approached his twin. He knelt down to be at eye-level with the gunman, brushed his fingertips along Vash's chin, and spoke gently, "What is it, dear brother?"

Vash swallowed a number of times before uttering weakly, "Stop this….No more….No more…."

"You've had the ability to end this all along. Beg for me to keep him from raping you. Say, 'Knives, please make it stop; I'm begging you.' Say that, and I'll tell the rest you're closed for now."

There was a period of silence as Vash considered his options. It was difficult deciding which was worse: conceding to his brother or continuing to be defiled by however many men Knives had brought in to the room.

"Well?" Knives prompted after a time.

Vash gazed at his twin briefly and then abruptly, he launched a wad of spit on to the other plant's face.

"I see," Knives growled, stood, and motioned for the man he had addressed as "Marcus" to proceed.

A strangled noise escaped the blonde's open mouth as the loyal follower entered him. He shuddered almost non-stop while the tears poured from his puffy, reddened eyes. Five minutes ticked by terribly slowly before he felt the familiar sensation of semen emptied inside of him. Once Marcus withdrew from his body, he could feel some of the white fluid that had been pumped within him slide down his thigh; it took a great deal of restraint to keep himself from vomiting.

Much to his horror, the nightmare persisted. He was mounted for a fourth time; his muscles had been stretched and loosened enough to the point where intercourse was no longer painful, allowing the new assailant to move in and out of him with ease. The ejaculations from the previous men also served as somewhat of a lubricant, reducing the friction that had made the first two agonizingly painful.

_Wolfy….please come take me away….I want to join you…._

The strong thrusts eventually sped up until the man finally climaxed deep within him. Anxiously, Vash waited for the next person to take him.

"You can relax now; that was the last one," Knives announced casually.

A mixture of laughter and sobbing sounded from the younger plant. He was visibly exhausted, sweaty, and on the edge of collapsing. It was astounding to Knives how he was able to still stand.

"I'm curious to know if this has changed your opinion of humans, if you would give your life for those four in particular if it came to it. But you can answer that later. Right now-" He combed his fingers through the damp blonde hair a few times before cupping the man's chin, "-I want to make sure you know no matter how many disgusting humans fuck you, you're still mine. We're the only brothers we have, after all."

Valiantly, Vash tried to keep his mouth closed, yet Knives was swiftly able to pry it open. The older twin invaded the oral cavity with his erection and leisurely started moving just as he would if he were having sex with the other male. Tenderly, he wiped away the falling tears with his thumb, smiling at the look of sheer disgrace and despair on his brother's face. This was without a doubt the lowest he had ever seen Vash; it was wonderful, beautiful – one step closer to the breaking point.

"So…." he sang and commenced humming the melody of the song Rem had so loved. The wretchedness written in Vash's green eyes grew to be even more tragic as he listened to what had always been a comforting haven for him be transformed into a weapon to stab him in the heart. He fell apart, imagining what Rem would think of him if she were here, how aghast and ashamed of him she would be seeing him like this and knowing what he had done.

_Rem….I'm so sorry….Please don't think less of me. I….I know I'm a sinner….Forgive me….Please Rem…._

After having been witness to the abuse since the beginning and now with the wetness and heat from Vash's mouth, Knives spilled himself in his twin's throat less than two minutes later. He pulled out, pinched the gunman's nostrils closed, and ordered firmly, "Swallow it."

Rather than putting up a fight – because in the end, he knew he'd have to obey anyway – the outlaw willed himself to follow the command.

"Good boy," Knives cooed, accompanying the words with patting Vash lightly on the head.

"You're…." Vash started breathlessly, "….a monster….No better….than those you hate."

Knives slapped him powerfully. "Don't ever compare me to them! _We _are the superior beings! We will _never _be on their level! They are garbage, Vash! When will you learn?!"

The white-haired twin buttoned and zipped his black slacks before leaving the room. From off in the darkened corner, Vash heard the familiar voice of Legato cackling for a brief moment, and then all was quiet. Assuming the lead servant was now gone, the gunman tried to inch his legs closer together, though found it difficult due to them being quite stiff from remaining immobile for so long. They suddenly buckled under him, and he screamed in agony as his arm was dislocated.

* * *

><p>It was odd having someone riding in the side car again. On several different occasions, Wolfwood found himself expecting to see spiked blonde hair and red fabric flapping in the wind whenever he glanced to his left; it made his heart ache that it wasn't Vash currently with him.<p>

"How far are we going?" Livio shouted in order to be heard over the sound of the bike's engine and the air rushing by.

"However far we can manage."

Twenty iles later, the two men spotted a vast, dark object hovering in the sky a hundred yarz away.

"What the hell is that thing?"

Livio studied it for a moment and replied, "Not the Ark. Want to check it out?"

Wolfwood headed in the craft's direction. Once they arrived, they were amazed to discover it appeared to be one of the original ships from the Seeds fleet. A compartment suddenly opened on the bottom of the vessel, inciting Livio to aim his two machine guns and Wolfwood to unwrap the Punisher as a platform was lowered. When it was near the ground, Wolfwood's eyes widened in surprise, and he held his arm out in a gesture to keep Livio from shooting.

"What in the world?" he mumbled to himself. Standing before them were two very cheerful looking women.

"Hi Mr. Priest!" Millie greeted in her usual chipper tone. "We're so glad we finally found you!"


	11. The Ties That Bind

**A/N: **Much thanks to gene-edge for the review and everyone for continuing to read! :D (I really should try and write a happy fic with the two of them to give them a break haha!)

* * *

><p>While Meryl was busying herself with pouring coffee for everyone, Wolfwood and Livio were seated at the long table in the kitchen area across from Millie. Other than introducing the seemingly new stand-in for Vash, the preacher had remained relatively quiet in contrast to the insurance girls' chatty welcoming.<p>

"These two are so damn cheery, especially the big one," Livio had muttered to his partner as they were taken aboard the aircraft. "How do you stand it?"

"You get used to it after awhile. Who knows? Their pleasantness might even rub off on you."

"Fat chance."

After passing out cups to everyone, setting milk and sugar in the middle of the table, Meryl took a seat next to Millie and regarded the two men with concern.

"We were very worried we wouldn't find you, Mr. Wolfwood," she said in complete seriousness.

The priest chuckled and dumped several spoonfuls worth of sugar in to his coffee. "I think we've known each other long enough for you to call me Nick or Nicholas, don't you?"

"I….well….alright then."

"So now that we're settled in, can you tell us what's going on?"

"We're still trying to grasp it all ourselves. After you left, we stuck around Johnson City for a couple of days just in case Vash returned. You spoke so ominously, we weren't quite sure what to make of it. We eventually began traveling back to our headquarters, but were stopped in between towns by this same ship. The people knew our names, where and who we worked for….They said they were members of Vash's family and that he had mentioned us to them the last time he visited."

Wolfwood's memory went to that time, remembering how he and the Humanoid Typhoon had been ambushed by two of the Gung-Ho Guns. After defeating the unwelcomed guests, they had stayed for a few days on the cratered ship, and though he hadn't overheard the conversation, he wasn't too surprised that Vash had talked a little about his travels to his "family," including blabbing about the two women tasked with the job of following him around for insurance purposes.

"Apparently, they were hoping he was still with us, but we said we hadn't seen him in days," Meryl continued. "That's when they asked about you. Millie here remembered you had said your orphanage was outside of December; they advised us to come with them, saying any friend of Vash's was a friend of theirs. They also warned that things were going to be getting dangerous and that we might be of some help to them."

"It's a good thing we came too," Millie added. "With everything that's been happening, no one knows what city is going to get attacked next. It's much safer here."

Wolfwood studied the contents of his cup for a moment before asking, "What all have they told you?"

"Not much," Meryl sighed. "They seem very secretive. The most important thing was for us to help them find you. Maybe now that we have, they'll explain some more."

"Indeed we shall," someone answered from the doorway, making everyone turn to see who it was.

Luida entered and started towards Wolfwood, prompting the preacher to stand. He shook her offered hand and greeted, "Never thought we'd come across each other again."

"If we had, I was hoping it'd be on more pleasant terms. I'd like to speak to you alone. Please follow me."

With one last quick glance at everyone at the table, Wolfwood trailed after the woman; once they were out of the room, Livio returned the stares of the curious, wary insurance girls.

A minute passed with none of them saying anything; finally, Livio inquired simply, "Yes?"

Millie blinked blankly a few times before asking her own question. "Did that hurt? The tattoo on your face?"

It wasn't quite the query he was expecting, and after a beat, he smiled and sighed.

_These two are gonna be fun, _he thought, amused.

* * *

><p>Wolfwood removed a cigarette from his jacket and was about to light it when he noticed the disapproving expression Luida gave him; he rolled his eyes in annoyance and put it away.<p>

"It's nice you picked up those two girls," he commented as he occupied himself with tossing and catching his lighter. "I would've hated to find out they were a part of Knives' body count."

"Vash spoke very fondly of them. He has few people he can consider friends or trustworthy, as you know; we wanted to protect them on his behalf – and frankly, we could use all the allies we can get. They also proved useful in tracking you down."

"So I heard. What do you want me for?"

"We were hoping you knew the possible whereabouts of Vash."

"He's dead." The stunned, disbelieving glint in the woman's eyes made the priest let out a deep breath and put his lighter away in order to provide her his full attention. "I took him to Knives. He didn't want my help, so I turned around and went home. I assumed he died during their reunion, but maybe I'm wrong. Knives may have just taken him hostage."

"You know where Knives is?" Luida asked quietly, sounding more like a statement instead of a question.

"Yes. The rally point is about six hours outside of Johnson City. It's where they're keeping the plants and where they go to drop them off. My friend and I were on our way to it when you all showed up."

"What were you planning on doing when you arrived?"

Wolfwood shrugged and said truthfully, "Break in, guns blazing. I'm determined to kill Knives, no matter what it takes."

There was a pause before Luida smiled and declared, "I think I have a better idea."

* * *

><p>For wanting to know more about him, Meryl and Millie rarely let Livio say more than a handful of words at a time. The two of them were fiercely talkative, and Millie seemed to have the attention span of a child, for she'd stray from the current subject frequently. When Wolfwood suddenly called to him from the doorway, Livio was relieved to get a break from the women. He followed the priest down a corridor into a room filled with various technological equipment; there were several monitors, keyboards, buttons everywhere, and some levers. Standing at the center of the area was the woman Livio recognized to be the one who had escorted Wolfwood away previously.<p>

"Livio, is it?" she questioned.

"Yes. And you?"

"My name is Luida. I understand you share the same type of training and abilities as Nicholas; is that correct?"

"It is."

"I also hear you were a former member of the Gung-Ho Guns; while I'm reluctant to give you my entire trust, Nicholas has assured me there will be no problems."

"What is it that you want from us, lady?"

"We need you both to infiltrate the Ark. It would've been near impossible for Nicholas to do it alone, but since Knives still believes you to be on his side, getting inside shouldn't be any trouble."

"For me. _He's _supposed to be dead, though," he said plainly, pointing to Wolfwood. "Knives wouldn't let either of us in if he spots him."

"I'll grow a beard," the clergyman offered. "Should be enough to disguise me."

"We can hope. Wouldn't hurt trying to talk in a slightly different voice either." Turning his attention to Luida once more, he inquired, "What exactly are we supposed to do when we get there?"

"Gather any information you can. Where he plans to go, how much longer he intends to keep this up, what he wishes to do with the gathered plants, how many men are with him – anything and everything. We'll be able to keep in contact with the two of you during this entire operation; that way, we can determine when and where the best time to strike will be. Learn the layout of the Ark, any weak spots it has that could make it easier to get inside."

"And what if Vash is alive?" Wolfwood asked softly. "What do we do about him?"

Livio met Luida's gaze and knew from her expression what her answer would be; it was the same as what he would've decided on himself. Though he could care less about the fate of the Humanoid Typhoon, his partner wouldn't be so willing to accept her reply.

"I'm afraid we have to leave him be," she stated solemnly. "There can be no suspicion of you working against Knives-"

"We can't just let that monster continue doing whatever he wants to him!" Wolfwood interrupted heatedly. "We have to do _something _to help him!"

"Nicholas, you mustn't treat or speak to Vash as a friend; it's too risky. It would be a red flag to Knives, and we simply cannot chance a rescue mission at this time. When Knives is defeated, then we can bring him home, but for now, you _have _to leave Vash as he is."

Wolfwood snickered and shook his head. "Some family. The one time he really needs your help, and you turn your back on him."

"That's not it at all-"

"Do you have any idea about the relationship those two have with each other?! And what a sick bastard Knives is to him in particular?! I will _not _just stand there and do nothing while he's tortured and raped by his sadistic brother."

Whether Luida responded or not to his outburst, Wolfwood didn't know, nor did he care; his frustration and fury consumed him as he stormed out of the room. He had no idea where he was going, though after passing through a number of corridors, he found a small, empty room that was as good a place as any to stay and gather his composure.

_How can she stand there and say that?! She has no idea how much danger he's in! _

He grew ill at the scenarios that raced through his mind, every one of them involving Knives putting his hands on Vash and forcing himself on his brother; what made it worse was that he knew Vash would continue to love his twin regardless of what the older plant subjected him to and most likely would not even retaliate. This was only half of Wolfwood's fears, however; he didn't like imagining the possible physical atrocities Knives could inflict upon the legendary gunman.

Inhaling deeply and releasing the breath slowly, he whispered, "I can't….I can't just do nothing. Someone has to protect him. Someone has to give a shit about helping him."

* * *

><p>It was fifteen minutes before Livio was able to find Wolfwood. The priest was smoking and even though he outwardly looked calmer than he had been, Livio could sense his anger still simmering under the surface.<p>

"She's right, you know."

Wolfwood breathed out a stream of smoke and said nothing.

"If Knives caught us trying to save him, we'd be dead in a heartbeat; then who would be left to do it?"

No response.

Livio folded his arms across his chest and considered what he should say next to try and get through to the other man. A lengthy moment of silence passed; when he spoke again, his tone was gentler and understanding. "You can't let yourself be blinded by your feelings for him and refuse to see reality, Nick. For the greater good, for _his _own good in the long run, we can't do anything for him."

The preacher extinguished his cigarette on the floor and put the butt in his pocket to throw away later. His rational side knew Luida was right; his emotional side was another story. He met the other man's gaze and smiled sadly.

"I hope he's dead," he voiced honestly with a fake laugh. "I really do. I can't bear to think about what Knives has done to him if he's alive. For his sake, I hope he's gone. Some things are worse than death."

* * *

><p>An hour after the multiple assaults, Knives had returned to release his twin from the bondage pose, repositioned the man's arm to its correct placement, and dressed him. The blonde's whole hand still ached, and now, his arm felt just as bad.<p>

Currently, Vash was lying on the bed in his small room. He rested on his stomach due to his backside being horribly sore and tender. Since the attacks, he had yet to say another word. When Knives came to sit beside him twenty minutes after he had originally left the other plant alone in the room, it was no surprise the outlaw remained unresponsive. His green eyes stared dully at the opposite wall, though didn't seem focused on it whatsoever; exhaustion clouded them, along with hints of an inner struggle to maintain any bit of pride he hadn't lost from the horrid event.

Petting his brother's tousled blonde hair, Knives stated gently, "You must be hungry. Would you like to come with me to eat?"

A number of seconds went by before Vash at last nodded his head slowly.

"It's been what? A couple days at least?"

A few blinks.

"Alright. Let's go. Come on."

Knives stood and watched as Vash strained to get to his feet. The younger plant was able to take one step before his knees buckled. His twin caught him and proceeded to carry him tucked under his arm like a puppy. Vash sleepily closed his eyes, only opening them once more when Knives eventually stopped. The new surroundings looked to be like a cafeteria, including four long tables near the middle and a shorter one isolated away from the others in front of what Vash considered a throne. His guess was it was for Knives only.

The aroma of the food that had been left on one of the lengthy tables made the gunman even more painfully aware of how famished he felt. He practically drooled as his eyes roamed over the various items; the sight almost brought on tears of happiness.

As Knives removed his arm from around Vash's waist and helped him stand, he said quietly, "You can have as much as you like."

Vash averted his gaze from the feast to look at his brother hopefully. "Re….really?" he inquired tentatively.

"Yes. But first, I want you to do something."

Rapidly, the blonde's expression unraveled in to one of trepidation and despair; he was absolutely crestfallen.

Knives whistled loudly, and four men entered the area in response to it. Upon seeing them, Vash immediately began quivering from immense dread. His heartbeat pounded in his ears; sweat started forming on his skin. He suddenly let out a loud gasp as if he had been drowning the instant he felt a hand on his shoulder. Anxiously, he turned to see who it was, feeling little relief when he found it to be his brother.

"There's no need to be afraid; I won't let them do anything to you," Knives whispered in his ear.

"Wh-who are they? Why are they here?" he questioned frantically.

"Vash, these are the men who raped you." The outlaw's eyes grew large, filled with panic and mortification. "If you had the opportunity to make them pay for what they did, wouldn't you take it?"

Vash glanced downward at the touch of Knives' hand cupping his, breath catching in his throat as the older plant placed the handle of a gun in his palm. It didn't take him long to realize it was his own silver revolver.

"Knives….I-"

"Obtain justice for yourself. Don't let them get away with what they did. Wouldn't the world be better without people like them? Let me help you." He stepped behind Vash, put his arms around the other man, and aided the Humanoid Typhoon in aiming at one of the offenders. "They degraded you, violated you. What's worse than being taken advantage of by a complete stranger? Kill them, Vash. Show them what they did was unacceptable."

Vash blinked numerous times to clear his vision from the water that had welled within his eyes. He eventually shut them and turned away, murmuring helplessly, "I can't. I can't do it. It's not right."

"What _they_ did to you isn't right. Why are you showing them mercy after they fucked you against your will? Just bring the hammer back, finger on the trigger….that's it…._there_ you go. Now just fire it."

Adamantly, Vash shook his head. "No one has the right to take the life of another."

Knives huffed disappointedly. It was time to give his twin the extra push. "It's either them or starve. Take your pick, Vash."

The thought of not eating any of the food laid before him, of continuing to wallow in the terrible throes of hunger, made the younger plant nearly snap. His finger stiffened, arm tensed as he fixed his aim; the reaction made Knives grin victoriously.

"That's it, Vash," he encouraged eagerly. "Once they're dead, you can have as much as you want. The sooner you shoot, the sooner you can enjoy the satisfaction of a full stomach. No more feeling starved. I can't imagine how hungry you must be."

Vash started shaking more noticeably as the tears rained incessantly from his eyes; in his mind, he stood at the precipice of morality and was close to falling.

_Rem….Rem….What do I do? I'm so hungry. I just want something to eat. I don't know when I'll get another chance to….But it would be wrong to kill them, even after what they did to me, right?...Right?...What should I do?_

Knives observed the ethical battle happening within his twin by the waves of emotion that washed over Vash's face. The excitement he had intensified when the blonde's arm wavered and his finger pressed ever so slightly against the trigger. He worked to steady the man's aim, making it so that the only thing Vash had to concern himself with was firing the weapon; Knives would be sure the gun was pointed at all the right places.

"Come on, Vash. Hold them accountable."

"I…."

The memory of the depraved incident overwhelmed the gunman, making him want nothing more than to curl up on the floor and be left alone. His fit of hysteria was draining virtually every last ounce of energy he had; as his whole body went limp on the verge of collapsing, Knives hugged him tightly against his own to support him.

"It's a win-win situation for you if you kill them," the older twin explained. "They pay for hurting you, and you get to eat. Simple as that. If you don't, well….you go hungry and who's to say they won't do it again?"

The threat of it happening a second time sent Vash in to a full-on panic attack. He trembled violently, almost losing his grip completely on the gun. His head spun and all at once, he felt tremendously hot as if he were standing near an open flame. Within his chest, his heart pounded so quickly he feared it would give out at any moment.

"Let me go," he sobbed pitifully. "I can't do this….I want to go home."

"Shhh…." Knives tried to soothe him. "You _are _home. You're here with me; it's where you were always supposed to be, alright? Just do this one thing and you and I can go eat and discuss what our plans are for our planet, our Eden."

"Don't make me do this."

"It's your decision. You have free-will, remember? It's what makes us the only two of our kind."

Less than a minute later, Vash dropped the revolver and exclaimed, "I can't do it! It's not right!"

The scowl on Knives' countenance was menacing as he caught the weapon before it hit the ground and gazed at his severely distraught brother.

"Rem said it's wrong-"

Knives struck the other plant's head with the barrel of the firearm, sending Vash sprawling to the floor. The blonde raised his hand to the throbbing wound, delicately dabbing at it a few times before holding the heel of his palm against it in an effort to stop the bleeding and crushing pain. He cowered and kept his face turned away as Knives approached, waiting apprehensively for another blow. It came soon enough from the butt of the gun, crashing in to the right side of his skull and knocking him to the side. Defenselessly, he laid where he was, his hair soaking up the blood that pooled beneath his head.

"You. Are. Worthless," Knives stated coldly. "Still clinging to her stupid principles. I don't know what to do with you anymore. You're pathetic, Vash." He suddenly turned his attention to his followers and announced to them, "Take what you want. It's yours now." Looking back to his whimpering, injured twin, he muttered, "He's proven he doesn't want any of it."

It wasn't until he heard the sound of silverware clinking against plates and bowls did Vash glance at the table and nearly regret his decision of not killing them as a result. From where he lay on the ground, he watched miserably while his four assaulters devoured the offered food. His stomach frequently voiced its distress, ceaselessly ached and longed for sustenance.

Finally, he couldn't resist anymore. Slowly, he sat up and hesitantly began crawling toward the men, paying no mind to what Knives might say or do to stop him. Once he reached the end of the table, he remained seated with his legs tucked under him and stared piteously at the servants. They each looked at him for a second before bursting into crude laughter.

"I think this mutt wants some scraps," one of them commented. "Is that what you want, boy?"

Vash nodded, his eyes silently pleading for them to have a shred of compassion for him.

"Sorry," was the insincere reply. "Not up to us."

"Don't give him even a crumb," Knives ordered. "Maybe if there's anything left, but don't count on it, brother."

Vash put his arm around himself, hung his head, and let out a depressing screech. The response was more heartless laughter at his expense.

_I just want to eat! _he thought dejectedly._ Please….Something….anything….So hungry…._

For fifteen minutes, the men ate whatever they could; occasionally, one would dangle a piece of food in front of Vash and then pull it away the moment the gunman reached for it. The taunting was pushing the outlaw closer and closer to the edge of losing control entirely; he was on the brink of lashing out and retrieving anything he'd be able to get his hand on, ready to viciously fight anyone who'd dare prevent him from doing so.

At last, they finished and were dismissed by Knives. The white-haired plant looked over the minute amount of leftovers, picked up a slice of bread, and threw it on the floor.

"There," he voiced offhandedly. "Come get it."

Vash scrambled to the piece of food and voraciously devoured it. Two chicken legs were also dropped for him, and he hurriedly bit off what tiny amount of meat was left on them that the person hadn't eaten.

"Done? Good. You need another shower. You stink of human filth."

Knives drug his twin out of the room by his arm and headed for his own private room. A handful of tears slid down Vash's face as he was taken farther and farther away from the food; even when the table was no longer in sight, he still pictured it vividly in his mind and wept as if he had lost something extraordinarily dear to him.

* * *

><p>Wolfwood and Livio strolled alongside a young woman through a number of hallways after attending dinner. She had been charged with escorting them to their quarters, and in short time, they stopped in front of a door which she announced was to be Livio's room; three doors down on the same side of the corridor, she said, "Here's where you'll be staying, Mr. Wolfwood."<p>

"Please, just call me Nick. And yours is Sienna, correct?"

"Yes, that's right. Luida has asked me to help you in any way I can, so if you need anything, don't hesitate to call for me. Or Miss Meryl, who is again right next door, Millie the next."

"Thanks."

"Well, good night!"

"Good night!"

Wolfwood stepped in to the petite room, content to discover his belongings had already been dropped off in it. There was a twin bed, nightstand, small dresser, and a chair. The first order of business was rummaging around in Vash's duffle bag for a couple of things. He set the picture frame on the dresser – along with the Humanoid Typhoon's sunglasses – and put one of the white button-down shirts on the bed next to the pillow; the man's scent had faded from the fabric, yet enough still lingered on it to bring the priest solace.

Sitting on the bed, he lit a cigarette just as someone knocked on the door.

"It's open," he called.

Meryl entered, giving a nervous wave before shutting the entrance behind her and asked, "I'm sorry to bother you, but do you have a minute to talk?"

"Sure thing. Have a seat." He patted next to him, and she took the invite.

"I overheard you talking to Luida earlier and….I'm so confused. You seem to know about what's been happening. Can you explain it to me?"

After exhaling a cloud of smoke, he confessed, "I could, but do you really want to know?"

"Yes. Please. I spent so much time following him and being around him, yet I really know nothing about who he is; I was too preoccupied with Vash the Stampede being an assignment that I didn't allow myself the chance to get to know him as anything else."

Noticing the regret in her demeanor, Wolfwood placed a hand on her shoulder in an effort to comfort her. "Even if you tried prying any personal details out of him, he probably would've dodged it. He plays things close to the vest. Anything he would've told you could've put you and Millie in serious danger; he'd never want to see you two in harm's way, especially because of him."

"But….we were a nuisance to him, always trailing behind him and being quite a bother, I imagine. Why would it matter to him what happened to us?"

The preacher got up and fetched the photograph from the dresser. As he handed it to Meryl, he stated bluntly, "You were his friends. Why else would this be in his luggage? You, Millie, myself – we _all _lost a friend."

Meryl stared at the picture for a long while, tears springing to her eyes as she saw the proof of Wolfwood's statement written not only on Vash's happily smiling face, but also in the fact that the gunman had kept the print with him during his travels. She had had no clue the Humanoid Typhoon appreciated them that much to be considered friends. The sentiment touched her heart more profoundly than she ever thought it would, and she hugged the frame to her as if she were clinging to the goofy broom-head himself.

"I….I didn't want to let myself think of him as anything other than a job," she cried quietly. "We were just supposed to keep him from causing any damage, but….I really do miss him."

"Me too," the priest admitted, sitting next to her once again.

"You think he's alive?"

"I don't know. He might be."

"Why would his own brother take him prisoner? Do those awful things to him that you mentioned?"

"You heard that part, huh?" he questioned sadly. She nodded. "They're….He's…." He sighed and pondered a way to explain things quickly and simply – without all the sordid details. "His brother, Knives, wants to exterminate the human race, have a world of only plants."

"Plants? Why?"

"Because he and Vash themselves are plants." He went on, despite her tremendously confused expression. "Vash has spent years trying to track him down in order to stop him. When I spoke to you last, telling you he may no longer exist, it was because he finally found him. Since plants are being stolen and mass murders, I figured he died during their confrontation. But Knives….They don't share a typical brotherly relationship, if you know what I mean. It's a bit more intimate than what's normal."

Meryl appeared to be wholly flabbergasted. "You _can't _mean…."

"They were all they had, the two of them for years on end. And Knives hates humans, so, well….that left only Vash, unfortunately, to serve as the need fulfiller."

"He….No, that can't be."

"Took me by surprise too. I only know because I drug the confession out of him one night. Now that he's returned to Knives after so many years….he may have been spared so that he could serve as that fulfiller again – among other reasons, I bet. Knives is a heartless bastard; from what I gather, based on what little information Vash mentioned, he likes taking his anger out on his brother."

"Oh god….that's so awful."

Wolfwood tossed his cigarette to the floor and stepped on it. "We won't know anything for sure until we get there."

For a period, the two of them sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts. It was a number of minutes later when Meryl at last spoke.

"I heard what you said earlier, about wanting to save him. And seeing you now when you talk about him….You say we all lost a friend, but….something tells me he was more than that to you."

The priest smirked. "What gave you that impression?"

"Call it a woman's intuition," she stated matter-of-factly with a smile. "You're passionate when you speak about him."

"I was only supposed to protect him, keep him from serious harm. Somehow, I let him be a friend. And then….he let me be a lover. We only did it three times, but….nothing ever felt so right in my life. Experiencing him in that way….being together like that….it was incredible." Wolfwood paused for a moment before chuckling and saying honestly, "You must think me and him are disgusting, terrible people. Being a man of the cloth myself, I should know better. Should've resisted. It's automatic damnation; one shouldn't lay with a man the way one would with a woman."

It was Meryl's turn to put a consoling hand on the priest's arm, and she smiled kindly, a sense of understanding conveyed in her eyes. "You love him. There's nothing disgusting or terrible about that."

"He always screws things up for everyone, that idiot."

All at once, Wolfwood was overcome by grief. He welcomed the caring embrace Meryl offered him, openly crying against her as he mourned the fate of his closest friend. From outside the door, Livio had listened to their conversation and felt an emotion he hadn't experienced since he was a child: empathy. He was finally able to comprehend just why Wolfwood was so resolute in his desire to rescue Vash and had even begun to feel concern for the Humanoid Typhoon's dire situation as well.

Shaking his head, he grumbled, "What do I care?" and proceeded to his own room. It was a great annoyance when he couldn't eliminate the sympathetic feelings from his mind until he fell asleep.


	12. All You Need

A/N: Many thanks to gene-edge for the review :) and to all you other readers! Glad I haven't scared you all off with how dark this has gotten XD

* * *

><p>Neither had spoken a word since Knives brought the younger plant to the private quarters to bathe him. Vash was still lamenting the loss of food, and he assumed Knives was still infuriated with him over his decision against taking retribution.<p>

After brushing his teeth and ridding himself of the foul taste of his brother's seed, Vash stepped into the warm water of the bath and let Knives tend to him without a fuss. Still, both were silent. When Knives was done, it was like lifting a dead body; Vash was eerily motionless and completely limp as his twin hauled him out of the bathtub and set him down on a chair.

The sound of water droplets splashing onto the floor from his naked, wet body soon mixed with the soft noise of a pair of silver shears snipping his hair. Occasionally, Knives brushed the trimmings off of his shoulders, some of it landing on his thigh. The sight of black made him frown, baffled, and he picked up a few of the strands to look at them more closely; he'd almost forgotten about the discoloration. Seeing it now for himself, it gave him an unsettling feeling. It was a sign of death, an indication he was one step closer to it.

"You still have many years left," Knives commented upon noticing what had captured Vash's attention. "Maybe even another century."

The gunman swallowed and closed his eyes. Reflecting on what he'd been through since being captured by his twin, he thought despondently, _Do I really want to live that long? _Alone_ with _him _again? Maybe after whatever happens….we could_ _be happy….I could be happy…._

Once Knives was finished, he went on to shave the stubble from the other man's face. Vash remained mute and immobile, his eyes downcast to gaze at the floor. The task didn't take much time, and as Knives wiped the blonde's countenance with a damp washcloth, he smiled a little and stated quietly, "Now you look like how I remember you best. Your hair standing up in spikes, skin so smooth…." He supplemented the words by caressing the younger plant's cheek and continued, "You're beautiful, Vash. I'm lucky to have you."

There was no visible reaction, but inside, Vash cringed and suddenly felt like blaming himself for his brother's actions; maybe it really _was _his fault for Knives doing what he did to him. It didn't make sense for the older twin to cause him harm if Knives sincerely felt that way, right? So surely, he really _did_ bring everything on himself somehow. It was in his nature to feel responsible for things he truly had no control over; now was no different.

"I'm sorry I keep disappointing you, Knives," he said in almost a whisper.

The white-haired plant pulled Vash closer, holding the man's head against his torso and rubbing his back. "I know….I love you."

"Love you too."

"Why don't you go lay down, and I'll be there in a bit, alright?"

Vash nodded, slowly stood up, and started for the bedroom by taking very small, cautious steps; each one seemed more taxing than the previous. When he at last reached the bed, he collapsed onto it and was asleep in seconds.

After sweeping the floor clean of the cut strands of hair, Knives went to his brother's side to guide his legs under the covers, turned off the lights, removed all of his clothes, and stretched out next to Vash. He kissed the outlaw's lips several times, cradled him in his arms, and breathed in his scent. As he laid there, eyes studying the tranquil features of his twin, his thoughts drifted to picturing Vash in the utterly powerless, submissive pose from earlier – remembered every detail of the punishment: every sound, tear, look of shame – everything about the unbelievably arousing visual of Vash being fucked….

He'd never been one to share, never cared for anyone touching his brother other than himself. But he had to admit that watching it all occur, instead of participating, had been almost as much of a turn on as personally having sex with the blonde always was for him.

The memory made him hard, yet instead of taking advantage of Vash's sleepy state, he decided to let the gunman rest; the younger plant _had_ been used quite a bit that day – he'd earned a small repose….and Knives was in a generous mood.

Placing one last kiss onto his twin's forehead, he murmured, "Good night, Vash."

* * *

><p>It was around five in the morning when Vash groggily opened his eyes; the first thing to hit him was the unbearable hunger, eliciting a small, pitiful noise from him as he curled up on his side. It was then he remembered he wasn't alone due to his gaze settling on the person lying beside him, back facing him.<p>

Propping himself up on the stump of his arm, he reached his hand out to touch the man's shoulder and gently shook, whispering, "Knives….Knives…."

He wasn't exactly sure why he wanted to wake his twin; it was highly unlikely Knives would agree to give him something to eat. With a heavy sigh, he sat all the way up, turned towards the older plant, and simply regarded him in silence. It was unusual to be awake before Knives; for as long as he could remember, his brother always roused before he did. Absentmindedly, he let his fingers glide along the other male's arm and back, losing himself in how perfect the skin was. There were no signs of any flaws, no monstrous disfigurations or scars, unlike his own body that was maimed head to toe – it was difficult to imagine he used to be the same; Knives' perfection, in contrast to his own deformities, was the greatest difference between them not only physically, but served as a reflection of their differing mentalities as well.

As his fingertips ghosted over Knives' cheek and neck, Vash receded into a memory of him and his brother during the first few days they'd begun experimenting and exploring each other and their sexual urges. He smiled; Knives had been so sure about it all, assuring him it was natural and completely acceptable, whereas he was uncertain, conflicted, and confused.

"_Are you cold?" Knives asked, receiving a nod for an answer. "You can come sleep here with me. We can keep each other warm."_

_Vash accepted the offer and after spreading his blanket atop Knives', he tried to get comfortable on the rocky ground with his back to his twin. Arms pulled him close as Knives squeezed him tightly. It'd been two weeks since the crash, and he'd only just begun to sleep without some sort of nightmare haunting him every time he closed his eyes. Many nights, he'd wake up in a panic, but was always hurriedly calmed by his twin and would fall asleep next to him. _

"_No bad dreams tonight, okay?" Knives voiced quietly. Again, Vash nodded. "But I'm here if you do."_

_Knives rubbed his brother's thigh for a minute before inching it upward to massage the blonde's flaccid member. Vash stiffened, though didn't say anything or move away, which was granting permission in Knives' opinion. It didn't take much time for Vash to get hard, and he expelled a soft gasp at feeling the other plant's erection pushing between his legs. _

"_Vash?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_Do you….want to try something else?"_

_Vash grew nervous, but curious as well. What was there left to do that they hadn't already? "Um….Like what?"_

_Knives sat up and undressed, then helped his twin do the same. The moons were bright, allowing Knives to see the hesitant, shy expression that had taken over the blonde's features. Parting the younger male's legs, Knives moved his index finger down from the tip of his brother's cock to a place that was _very _unexpected for Vash._

"_What are you doing?!" he asked anxiously. _

"_Just relax. It might hurt too much if I don't use a couple fingers first."_

"_First? What comes after that?"_

_Knives gave him a look that told him everything._

"_N-No! No way!"_

"_How else do you think we're supposed to have sex?"_

"_I don't know! But not _that…._not _there_!" _

"_Come on, Vash. It's supposed to feel good, for both of us. And besides, this could be a way we could create more plants with free-will like us. Don't you want to at least try?"_

_Vash's heart was racing; he had no idea what he should do. A hand affectionately cupped his cheek, relaxing him ever so slightly. _

"_Come on."_

_The longing glint in the blue eyes made Vash feel that even if he attempted to prevent him from continuing, Knives would merely force him to let it happen anyway. But the times before when they touched and kissed, it had always been incredibly pleasurable, so maybe this would turn out to be the same way; maybe he _should _give in. _

_Taking a deep breath and exhaling it leisurely, he at last answered, "Okay. Just….tell me what you're doing before you do it….and go slow."_

_Knives grinned. "Of course."_

Vash quickly withdrew his hand from his brother's countenance as Knives shifted to lie on his back. A compelling urge to be closer to him prompted the blonde to straddle the older twin's waist, lean down, and kiss him tenderly. When he pulled back, he was surprised to see Knives staring at him. For a solid minute, they gazed at one another without a word. Typically, Vash was able to discern what his brother was feeling or thinking just by his eyes, but this time, he had no clue. Was Knives angry at him for being on top of him? Did he care? It worried Vash, who suddenly blurted out, "I'm sorry," and started to move away, but Knives firmly gripped his arm to stop him.

Running his fingers through the still spiked blonde locks, Knives spoke comfortingly, "It's alright. Did you have a bad dream?"

"No, no I just…." He tried to fight off the tears as he declared wretchedly, "I'm really hungry."

"Oh Vash….Maybe later today you can have something, maybe even a donut."

The possibility of having his favorite food, or _any _kind of food for that matter, made Vash smile and hug the other plant. He had a good feeling, was optimistic that Knives would come through for him. Nuzzling his face against his twin's neck and rubbing the man's side lovingly, he whispered, "Thank you."

"Anything for you, dearest brother."

Knives was severely tempted to flip Vash over and tell him that he'd have to give something in return, yet the fact the outlaw had kissed him on his own accord proved Vash was still attached to him and sincerely loved him. Through it all, the Humanoid Typhoon hadn't developed a hatred for him, and despite continuing to have compassion for humans, Vash _was _falling apart. It'd be soon enough that he'd be reduced to nothing, feel like he was worth less than the sand that covered the planet – Knives would be there to pick up the pieces, to console him and mold him into who he was _meant _to be, realize his superiority and lose the part of him that was a human sympathizer. He would make Vash understand that he needed no one but him, just as he needed no one but Vash.

Gradually, the hand stroking up and down his side moved slower and slower until it finally stopped altogether. Holding his twin securely, Knives joined him in sleep once again.

* * *

><p>Six hours later when Vash awoke, he was overwhelmed by the extraordinary aroma of food. Bolting upright, he raced to the table and started giggling and crying all at once as his eyes surveyed the breakfast set out for him. Under the basket filled with a dozen donuts, there was a note:<p>

_Good morning, Vash._

_With all my love,_

_Knives_

An ecstatic grin swept over his face; the adoration he felt for his brother at this moment was indescribable. Not wasting any more time, he commenced devouring the heavenly food, periodically taking gulps from the pitcher of orange juice to ease the bread down his throat better. Once the basket was empty, his stomach was quite full, but his eyes and hands continued to feed his appetite. He tore through four sausage links, two hard boiled eggs, a cup of fruit, and nearly a pound of bacon.

By the time he was finished, he felt horribly sick, yet a smile remained from the joy of being able to feast without restraint. Just as he stood to return to the bed, the door opened and the happiness he had instantly turned to concern. Knives shut the entrance behind him as Vash rushed towards him.

"Knives, are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?" the blonde asked frantically, raising his hand to affectionately touch the man's cheek. His twin was covered in red.

Knives chuckled, kissed Vash's wrist, and made his way to the bathroom, shedding his clothes as he went. "I'm fine. There's no need to worry."

"What happened?! Whose blood is-" He abruptly stopped, suddenly fearing he knew where it came from. "Knives?" he voiced timidly, standing in the doorway and watching his brother turn on the shower faucet.

"Another successful raid," was the casual reply. "The plant was easy enough to retrieve. Now to drop them off and set out again for more."

Vash's mouth was agape, his eyes wide and alight with devastation. While he had been indulging himself, people were being slaughtered at the hands of his twin; it brought on a swell of tremendous guilt. He shuffled to the bed, sat down on the edge of it, and buried his face in his hand.

_I….I did nothing….I did nothing to stop him, to help them…._

Knives stepped into the room ten minutes later and smirked upon seeing Vash looking terribly depressed. He sat next to the gunman and placed his hand atop Vash's thigh.

"Why are you in such a gloomy mood? You shouldn't be hungry anymore."

"Knives, you…."

"Killed them? Yes. We're one step closer to ridding this planet of human filth and having our own paradise. You don't seem to understand that it's necessary."

"It isn't! It isn't necessary! You haven't even given them a chance, haven't seen how-"

"They mutilated your body? Leach off our siblings? Lie, steal, cheat, and kill one another – their own kind? That's all I _need _to see, Vash. I can't comprehend why you continue to make excuses for them when all they've done is treat you like some sort of animal. You will _never _have a world with no wars and no stealing if they are allowed to exist."

"I made a promise to protect them. She gave her life for them-"

"Vash." The tone in which his name was said caused Vash to flinch as if waiting for Knives to hit him. "That's enough. I don't want to hear any more of it. One of these days, you'll realize how much I've done for you. Everything has been for you."

Vash lowered his head to concentrate on the floor as his brother got up and dressed. He didn't feel like asserting his opinions and fighting to make Knives see things his way, nor did he want to waste the energy on something that proved time and time again to be impossible.

The white-haired plant left the room, and Vash could hear the sound of the door being locked from the outside. With a heavy sigh, he stretched out on the bed, lying on his front and resting his head against his arm.

_Maybe he's right….No matter how hard I try, people still die. They do horrible things to each other….I don't understand it….Maybe I _should've_ pulled the trigger yesterday. Would it really be so bad if they were dead? I'd never want someone to go through what I did….And they wouldn't have the chance to do it again to me…._

Vash hurriedly sat up, clutching his head as if he had a pulsing headache; he seemed to be in pain, with his eyes shut, teeth clenched, and groaning weakly.

_What am I saying?! It's wrong! _He's _wrong! No one _ever_ has the right to take the life of another, no matter what! And not all humans are like that! My friends, Meryl, Millie, Lina, Amelia….And my family….Wolfy…._

He hugged his knees to his chest and rocked slightly from side to side.

"What's happening to me?" he whispered aloud. "I can't….I can't think like him….He's wrong…."

From outside the door, Knives had stayed in hopes of overhearing signs of a possible moral struggle. He'd almost given up when he abruptly heard Vash emit a grieved noise, soon followed by actual voiced words.

Not until he was at the end of the hallway did he release his maniacal laughter.

* * *

><p>"<em>Vash?! Spikey?! Where the hell are you?!"<em>

_Wolfwood burst through another door, praying that this would be the one that would lead him to the Humanoid Typhoon. The light that poured in to the otherwise pitch-black room made the occupant recoil against the far corner of the area as if the illumination burned him. The man's clothes were tattered and dirty, and he appeared frail, gaunt, and unnaturally pale like he hadn't been outside in months. If it weren't for the blonde hair and visible scars, Wolfwood wouldn't have believed it was him._

"_Oh God, Vash…."_

_He sensed the plant's unspoken terror, prompting him to approach cautiously with hands outstretched at his sides in a kind, inviting gesture._

"_Vash….Spikey….It's me. Wolfwood. I'm here to save you, take you away from here."_

_Vash hesitantly lifted his head to see if it really was his friend; he feared it was another trick like his brother had played on him so many times previously. Slowly, the priest knelt beside him, offering a benevolent smile. The dull, green eyes studied his countenance, and they widened in alarm at any slight movement the preacher made. After surveying him for a long moment, he spoke in a hoarse whisper, "Wolfy?"_

"_Yes, it's me. I came back for you. What a fine mess you've gotten yourself into, needle-noggin." _

_A nod was the reply, followed by numerous tears streaking down the blonde's cheeks. _

"_Are you hurt? What has he done to you?" _

_No response._

"_Vash." _

_He reached out to lay his hand on the outlaw's knee in an effort to console him, but the other man acted as if it was a threat; in what seemed like less than a second, Vash grabbed the gun from Wolfwood's holster and aimed it at him. The preacher held up his hands and stared in to the now highly alert and frenzied eyes of his comrade. _

"_Spikey, put that down. Don't be an idiot; I'm here to help you."_

"_I don't know what else to do," he cried helplessly. _

"_It's okay. We'll figure it out together. Just put it down." _

_As quickly as Vash had retrieved the weapon, he pushed the barrel against his own head and cocked it. Wolfwood felt like someone had punched him in the gut. He wasn't sure how to talk him out of it or if he even _could_; it was now utterly clear just how much his friend had been brutalized and mistreated, living through evils the preacher couldn't even begin to imagine. It had all been enough to drive Vash to want to do something he'd always been decisively against. _

"_Vash….don't you dare do it. Don't you _dare _pull that trigger," Wolfwood stated steadily. _

"_I can't make it stop….I want to be with Rem."_

"_Would she really want you to kill yourself?! End your life like this?! You've said so yourself you disapprove of suicide more than anything! Don't let him win!"_

_There was a pause before Vash un-cocked the gun, turned it over to Wolfwood and pleaded, "Please do it for me then."_

"_That's not what I meant!"_

"_Please Wolfy. Do it….for me."_

_The plant's eyes were filled with such anguish, such incredible turmoil, it broke Wolfwood's heart. He grasped how desperate Vash was, how the gunman felt like there was no other way out, no other escape from his pain._

_Bringing the hammer back, the priest aimed at the center of the outlaw's forehead. His vision was blurred by tears, but he wouldn't miss his mark._

"_I….I love you, Spikey," he breathed._

_A tiny smile came to Vash's face. "I love you too, Wolfy."_

Wolfwood practically fell out of bed as he awoke from the disturbing dream. He sat on the edge of the mattress, rubbed his face, and tried to stop shaking.

"Just a nightmare," he mumbled. "A nightmare. It wasn't real. He'd never do that…._I'd _never do that….Damn it, Knives. Don't you dare make him lose the person he is."

If his dream resembled even a fraction of what Vash was going through, then they couldn't get to him soon enough. It hadn't even been a month since he and the infamous outlaw parted ways, yet Wolfwood knew Knives' cruelty had no boundaries and because of that, it may not take much time at all to break Vash's spirit.

Livio would have to heavily restrain him if they discovered the Humanoid Typhoon was alive, for the next time Wolfwood touched the gunman, he would hold him and never let him go again.

* * *

><p>By the time Wolfwood arrived in the kitchen, everyone was done with breakfast and going their separate ways. Feeling as though he had no appetite to stomach much, he poured himself a cup of coffee, grabbed a muffin, and sat down at the table across from Livio. For a handful of seconds, Livio regarded him blankly, sensing he was shook up over something, and at last said, "You look like hell."<p>

"Feel a little like it," he replied.

"What happened?"

"Bad dream."

"About him?"

The priest took a large bite, not answering.

"You've gone too soft, Nick."

"Sure seems that way."

"What was it about?"

"He killed himself."

Livio expected something disconcerting, but not quite _that _heavy. "Things got that bad for him with Knives?"

"They certainly weren't _good." _Every other minute, it seemed, Wolfwood pictured the blonde's face – how his eyes had expressed no hope, no life, only immense suffering. It was haunting him.

"Maybe it's not as bad as all that."

Both of them knew that was probably not the case, but Wolfwood gave a small smile and replied, "Yeah, maybe it's not."

The two of them sat in silence even long after the preacher had finished his light breakfast. It wasn't until Luida entered and asked them to follow her did they finally get up. She escorted them to the same area where they'd had the initial discussion of the Ark, held up what looked to be an earring, and explained, "This is how we will keep in contact with you. It's similar to the one Vash wears, though it's been vastly enhanced; it can transmit over a far greater distance, granting us the ability of staying out of Knives' view as the Ark travels. We will not always follow it to each individual city, so it is important you keep us posted with where it's headed. When we move in, we want to be sure there's nothing and no one around nearby in case things get out of hand. Nicholas, I ask that you wear it simply because Knives won't know you; he's already seen Livio and knows he doesn't have one. The man is highly intelligent and observant; I don't want to take any chances of arousing suspicion. The tiniest thing can be a red flag to him, so be sure you are very careful. Watch what you say, how you act – that includes showing no compassion towards Vash if he's there. Is that clear?"

It was nearly half a minute before Wolfwood reluctantly nodded.

"Good. I'll take you to Sienna; she'll be doing your piercing."

If he hadn't felt nauseous already from the nightmare, Wolfwood certainly did now. The thought of Vash resembling anything like how he'd been in the dream, and that the priest couldn't even dote on him a friendly smile or word, made Wolfwood ill.

It was evident Livio was going to have his work cut out for him, warding off Knives' potential skepticism and keeping his partner away from giving the Humanoid Typhoon any sort of amiable gesture.

* * *

><p>Other than taking a nap, Vash wasn't sure how to keep himself occupied. It was certainly better than being a part of other alternatives, such as ending up in the "torture den." He hummed softly, strolled around the room, and tried to keep his mind off of thinking about the previous day. The memory sometimes slipped in, swallowing him in shame and anxiety; no matter how much he wanted to forget it ever happened, he could still remember every physical sensation, making him feel sick to his stomach. Up until that point, he'd only given himself to Knives and Wolfwood; now he felt tainted and guilty for letting it happen with people other than the two of them.<p>

"Just….stop it," he mumbled. "I have to keep going. It's okay." He knew it was a lie, but hearing a little positivity said aloud was somewhat uplifting. "It'll be okay."

He decided to look in every drawer of the small dresser in the room. It mostly contained what he expected, just clothing. Removing one of the shirts, he contemplated putting it on. It'd be nice, he thought, to have on another layer, another barrier between his body and whoever was going to harm him next; he realized the latter sounded pitiful and felt foolish for thinking it, yet having something to cover his bare torso would indeed make him feel less vulnerable.

In the end, he refolded the garment and put it away; Knives would no doubt force him to take it off anyway the next time he saw him. One drawer had some medical supplies such as bandages, band-aids, alcohol, cotton balls, and a small plastic container he assumed was a kit with more materials of the same variety. Another housed his long, red coat, bringing a smile to his face and arousing a light laugh from him. His fingers brushed against the fabric and its buttons, eyes looked over it fondly, though once he spotted the blood stains on it, he was overcome by the overwhelming feeling of failure. Hurriedly, he pushed the drawer in. He mourned the fact he felt the symbolism of the color red – determination and courage – no longer applied to him.

Reaching the bottom drawer, he frowned upon finding a wooden box with a latch. His nosiness got the better of him; he pulled it out, set it on the floor, and opened it. Lying inside was his silver pistol. It wasn't a surprise when he found it to be unloaded and with no ammunition in the box. However, something else _was_ in the container. Putting the gun down, he removed the paper that had been under it. As he unfolded it, he discovered there was more than one page and the second his eyes landed on the handwriting, he dropped the paper like it had burned him. He covered his mouth with his hand in an attempt to stifle his shocked gasp, tears flooding his eyes.

It was his letter to Wolfwood.

For several minutes, he stared at the pages as if they were an alarming, frightening object. Judging by how furious Knives had gotten, he believed his brother had thrown it away.

Finally, he slowly picked it up once more and began to read. With every passing word, he felt like pieces of his heart were breaking off.

_He never knew….now he never will, _he thought regretfully. When he was done, he returned it to the box and sighed. "I couldn't tell him….I really _am _a needle-noggin, huh Wolfy?"

Five minutes passed with him doing nothing but holding on to the side of the box and vacantly gazing at the letter inside. Eventually, he packed away the gun and put everything back the way it was. It was a long while before his sorrow turned to anger. Things weren't supposed to be like this; Wolfwood wasn't supposed to be dead.

"You were supposed to be there waiting for me!" he shouted. "He took you away, he really did! You….Rem….anyone and everyone that matters to me, he kills!"

Getting to his feet, he paced back and forth for a number of minutes, abruptly stopping when he heard the door unlocking. Swiftly, he darted to the entrance so that he was in a position to ambush the person from behind. It opened, Knives closed it without looking back, and Vash locked his arm around the man's neck from behind.

There wasn't an intention to kill; he just needed to do _something. _For Wolfwood.

With both hands, Knives worked to pry his brother's limb from his throat, but for only having one arm and losing some of his physical stamina due to the conditions he'd been kept in, Vash proved to be a worthy threat. The older plant stumbled toward the nearest wall and slammed the blonde against it repeatedly. Still, Vash didn't relinquish his grip, nor was it loosened whatsoever from the half a dozen impacts against the solid surface.

Realizing the current solution wasn't working, Knives stepped forward and after two heaves, he was at last able to fling his twin over his head. Vash landed on his back with a weak groan, dazed and sore. There wasn't time to consider what to do next; Knives yanked him upward and shoved him against the wall once again. A hand was at his throat and lifting him until only the tips of his toes were touching the floor. Amongst the gasps for breath and choked noises, a pained grunt sounded as the blade formed by Knives' hand stabbed his right bicep clean through.

"I'm surprised and impressed at your tenacity," Knives began evenly, "but more irritated with your stupidity. What possessed you to think you had even remotely what it takes to incapacitate me?" As he glared at the outlaw, he was rather stunned at how intense the ire was blazing in the green eyes. While he'd left Vash alone, the blonde had found or pondered something so deeply it was enough to set him off; he had a hunch as to what it was, and the next word out of the gunman's mouth confirmed it.

"Wolfwood," Vash wheezed.

"You're still upset about that? I thought we were done with it."

Knowing his brother detested the way he called the priest by his pet name, the younger plant whispered breathlessly, "Wolfy."

Knives tightened his grip and twisted the blade in the man's arm. "Stop."

"Wolfy."

"You'll regret it."

"Wolfy."

"ENOUGH!"

With remarkable strength, Knives hurled the man across the room, the wall cracking upon Vash colliding with it. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and his head was swimming. Through blurred vision, he saw his twin approaching him quite casually; the nonchalant demeanor instantly dissipated when Knives wrenched his hair until he was sitting up. Settling himself between the gunman's legs, Knives pressed the right side of Vash's face against the wall with his left hand. The index finger of his right one formed into a small hook, which he linked through the man's silver earring. No warning given, he started pulling it downward. Little by little, it tore through the skin, producing various noises of immense pain to come from his twin. Blood began dripping from the appendage; with one last, strong jerk, the earring ripped through completely. The bleeding increased now that the bottom of his earlobe was split in two.

Vash fell to the side and onto the floor with his hand cupping his ear. He paid no attention to Knives holding his leg down until his thigh was pierced twice with a sharp object. He cried out, saw the glint of the blade, and clenched his teeth to keep from screaming as Knives stabbed his calf a handful of times before giving his other leg the same treatment.

"Apparently I haven't been clear enough with you," Knives stated, dragging the younger plant by an ankle to the bed. He threw him onto the mattress, retrieved a bottle of lube from under the bed, and removed his clothes. Vash didn't seem to be aware of anything other than the excruciating throbbing from his head, arm, ear, and lower extremities. The white sheets were rapidly streaked and soaked with blood, yet Knives didn't appear concerned about it. Instead, he continued on with what he desired, tugging the gunman's clothing off, slicking his erection with lube, and situating himself between the blonde's legs. The action was enough to finally rouse Vash out of his physical distress.

"Get off!" he commanded, his voice frail and wavering. His legs flailed about in an attempt to not only move himself away but also kick his brother; his hand pushed against the man's shoulder to shove him backward, and he repeated, "Get off! Don't! Stop! GET OFF OF ME, KNIVES!"

Holding the outlaw down with one hand against his chest, Knives growled, "You make me do this, Vash."

The gunman went still and stiff, a quivering wail resonating in the room as his twin forcibly penetrated him. Knives wasted no time in taking on a steady rhythm of thrusting, riding the blonde without any hesitation or consideration as to how tender Vash was from the day before. A hand latched on to his face when he started to lean down to kiss the younger plant, preventing him from doing so. It was no bother; Knives was satisfied with simply pounding into the other male's body for the moment.

"Stop," Vash cried feebly between his panting and moaning. "Sto-ohhhnnn Kni-….Knives….Nnn-No….Stop….I'm sorry." He wasn't sure if he was apologizing to his twin or to himself.

Knives knocked the outlaw's arm away and pinned it above his head. Free to lower his face closer to Vash's now, he spoke into his ear, "You. Are. Nothing." He emphasized each word with a vicious thrust. "You're powerless, worthless. _I'm _the one who holds the power. Don't defy me, dear brother. You. Are. Mine. You have, and need, no one but me."

Grasping Vash's chin, he kissed the gunman heatedly; the blonde tried to turn his head, yet Knives' grip was unyielding. It was almost too much to bear when the older plant's tongue invaded his mouth. There was nothing he could do except let the slippery intruder lick and prod his own.

With the loss of blood and exertion from having Knives use his body, Vash felt dizzy and exceptionally tired. Neither seemed to worry his brother, whose lips at last left his mouth and moved down to ravish his neck.

"Stop," he whispered half-heartedly. It was a lost cause, he knew, and he closed his eyes as if to retreat into his imagination. Arms snaked around him; Knives' propulsions became faster and rougher. Vash's moans grew louder as a result, and Knives began grunting in his ear. The blonde dug his fingernails into the man's back and wrapped his legs around him, holding on helplessly as his twin neared the peak.

Knives at last went rigid and stopped his thrusting as he came inside his brother. The two of them breathed heavily, one feeling satiated and the other exhausted. Within a minute, Knives suddenly started to chuckle; Vash was clueless as to why until Knives pulled away and commented, "Well well, it looks like you actually wanted it."

The outlaw glanced down and was horrified to see that he was hard. He tried keeping his twin from touching him, saying, "No, don't," yet Knives ignored him. His eyelids fluttered shut, breathy sounds escaped his open mouth, and he grabbed a fistful of the sheet as his brother vigorously rubbed up and down the shaft.

One minute later Vash tensed and was embarrassed from ejaculating onto Knives' hand. He opened his eyes to gaze at the white-haired plant, who was squeezing every last drop out of the tip.

"You came a lot," Knives observed with a grin, sensing just how ashamed Vash felt. "How long had it been?"

The gunman stayed the way he was even after his twin got off of him and went to clean up. He was frozen, his face flushed, and he stared at the ceiling as he attempted to keep his emotions under control. It was awhile before Knives returned to the bed and began wrapping his arm and legs with bandages; the latter were covered entirely, save for his knees. Once he finished with that, Knives turned the blonde's head, poured a small amount of alcohol onto his earlobe, and went to work on stitching the torn piece. Vash grimaced, hissed, whimpered and cursed, wishing his twin had numbed the area first, and struggled to remain still while Knives laced the cartilage together again.

When the patching was done, Vash rolled onto his side and wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in order to forget about the extreme discomfort and what had transpired – even if only for a little while. He almost cried at the touch of his twin's fingers stroking his stomach as the other plant cuddled him from behind.

"Now, you won't be saying his name anymore, will you?" Knives asked quietly. It would be in Vash's best interest to answer "no."

The blonde was silent for a period. His brother waited patiently for a response. At last he uttered softly, "I won't….I won't say his name again." His voice was laced with immense grief.

"Bury him, Vash. It's time you let him go."

The outlaw closed his eyes, a couple of tears fell onto the sheet, and he nodded.

"You have me. You'll always have me. We don't need anyone else."

Again, Vash nodded.

"I'm glad you understand. And as I've said before, I don't like hurting you."

"I know," was the nearly inaudible reply.

"Do you love me?"

Vash inhaled a trembling breath and whispered, "Of course." More tears leaked from his eyes.

Knives lightly kissed the back of his twin's neck. "Good."

He continued to place gentle kisses onto the younger plant's shoulder, making Vash wholly confused. Just moments ago, Knives was the complete opposite of the affectionate brother he was being now. He wasn't quite sure how to feel, what to think. Ultimately, he concluded he should take the blame; if Knives was genuinely this caring – and he sounded so apologetic about having to do what he did – then truly, Vash deserved the punishment and drove his twin to do it. He was being very unfair to Knives.

_It's my fault. I was too harsh; I shouldn't have done it….And he's right; I have to let Wolfwood go….I have to let you go, Wolfy._

Knives murmured soothing words into his brother's ear and hugged him as Vash wept quietly.

Ten minutes passed; the last words the gunman heard were "I love you; I'm all you need" before he was taken by sleep.


	13. Drowning in Remembering

**A/N: **Very sorry for taking so long with this update. Some personal issues and starting a new job. At least I was able to come back and give you a decently long chapter :) Also, I've unfortunately lost my beta, making this chapter even harder :( So the updates won't be as fast as they have been in the past, but just know that I'm not abandoning it.

Thanks to the new faves and follows! :D

* * *

><p>"Vash….Vash….wake up. It's time to get up."<p>

Little by little, Vash opened his eyes to find his brother standing beside the bed and stroking his face. All at once, pain took over seemingly every inch of him. His body throbbed from the numerous fresh wounds he'd garnered the previous night, arousing various noises of discomfort from him.

"Come on, Vash," Knives coaxed. "I need you to come with me."

"Can't you just leave me here?" he asked hopefully. "I'll stay right here. I promise."

"Sorry, but no. We're leaving the Ark for now. Come on. I'll help you get dressed."

With great reluctance, Vash sat up, turned so his legs were dangling over the side of the mattress, and let Knives begin putting his clothing on him. Slowly, he got to his feet, and his twin finished dressing him, tying the drawstring just below his navel.

Every step was an endeavor, and upon noticing how difficult it was for him, Knives placed his arm around the blonde's waist to help support him. It was quiet as they made their way to the front entrance; Vash was extremely grateful everyone had apparently already left, alleviating some of his anxiety. When they reached the staircase that had been extended down from the Ark to the ground, the outlaw had to shield his eyes for a minute due to the brightness of the suns. It'd been awhile since he'd been outside, felt a light breeze, or breathed in fresh air; he hadn't realized how much he missed it, how amazing it felt to be free from his confinement and having a sense of autonomy like when he had wandered the terrain alone.

As they descended the steps, the gunman recognized the vessel that loomed in front of them. The sight brought on a saddening feeling; this was the last place he had seen Wolfwood, the place of their last goodbye.

"We'll be here for a couple of days," Knives explained as they entered the ship. "We need to unload the plants and adjust them." He latched the familiar metal collar with leash around Vash's neck, and the younger plant didn't protest but rather kept his eyes downcast and was silent. "I'm going to be busy, so I'm putting you in the care of a couple of my servants, Daniel and Nathan."

_That _statement caused a reaction. The blonde looked at him frantically and grabbed his arm. "No, you can't. Let me follow you; I swear I won't get in the way."

"There's no need to worry. They're under orders to do nothing other than keep an eye on you. This way, you're free to move around. Unless, you'd rather be locked away."

Vash contemplated the two options; both were tempting in their own way. After a moment he at last answered, "No, I don't want to be locked away."

"I thought so." He tossed the leash to one of the two men that had come to stand behind the gunman. "I'll meet up with you later."

Vash's nervousness intensified with each step Knives took away from him; the fact his twin told the men not to do anything did little to reassure him.

"So what's it like?" Nathan questioned once Knives was out of ear-shot.

"What's what like?" Vash replied quietly.

"Being your brother's whore." The two men laughed uproariously.

The outlaw remained still and said nothing, his embarrassed expression hidden by having his back to them.

"The infamous Vash the Stampede, sixty-billion-double-dollar man, nothing more than the Master's cheap, personal sex slave."

"Better him than any of us," Daniel commented. "Not to mention sparing us the Master's temper."

"True, but at least we aren't _related _to him."

The two laughed again. "_Very _true. Fucking your own brother is pretty disgusting."

"Guess you could say the only thing that's been able to tame the legendary Humanoid Typhoon is the Master's di-"

Vash abruptly turned around and pushed his way past them. Hearing the words, knowing others were aware of what was happening behind closed doors, made him feel insignificant and humiliated. They just didn't understand; things weren't like that. He meant more to Knives than just being a punching bag or plaything, didn't he?

From behind him, he could discern the two men continuing to make snide comments and cackling riotously as they followed him. He wasn't sure where he was headed in the expansive vessel, didn't know where anything was, but proceeded to walk around for a period before an idea came to him that would get him away from the two of them and their judgments. Taking a minute convincing his guards that it wasn't an escape attempt and that they'd still be able to watch him from the ship, Vash stepped outside the vessel and proceeded toward the area where he and Knives had had their confrontation. He could just barely make out the traces of blood here and there that hadn't been covered by new gravel or sand. Searching for a rock, he found one slightly smaller than the palm of his hand and strolled to the base of the tall cliff Knives had been standing at when he'd arrived. The wind had blown sand against it since then, and he chose a spot where the tan powder was deep enough to create marks in.

Easing himself down to sit with his legs to the side and leaning to the right because it was too uncomfortable to sit straight up, he outlined a large cross. Within the horizontal portion, he wrote "NICHOLAS;" above it he etched the letter "D," and below the first name, he spelled out "WOLFWOOD." Once finished, he surveyed his work and smiled.

"Nicholas D. Wolfwood," he sighed contently. "I guess this is my final farewell to you. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help….I'm sure you gave them one hell of a fight though, my friend. Remember when you told me you'd never fired a gun before?" He laughed a little at the memory. "You almost had me fooled, thinking you were just an ordinary, regular priest – then you started shooting. We hadn't ever faced trouble together before then, but I knew from that moment on I could rely on you. It was almost like meeting up with an old friend."

He let out a deep breath and re-traced the bottom edges of the cross. "I know I failed. I really messed up. Now, there's really nothing I can do to change it. I'm sorry. No matter what happens – whether it ends up being just me and him left – I kind of hope….you'll still be there for me, with me, like old times. I'm not familiar with religion or anything; I don't even know what it is _you _believe in, but I've heard people mention things like guardian angels." With a small chuckle, he explained, "Since you're a churchman, I assume you're going to Heaven, so maybe….you could be mine. You and Rem. And maybe, some day, I can join you both."

Tossing the rock to the side, he closed his eyes briefly and rubbed his face as if trying to stay awake. "I don't know, Wolfy. It's been….Here with him, things are worse than I remember them ever being before. I'm ashamed of what's happened, what I've done. But….to answer your question from our last night together, I do love him. He's my brother. He's a part of my family. We've been through a lot. I know you probably think it's stupid, but you don't understand….

I feel awful. Yesterday, I caught myself thinking like him, that maybe I should've taken someone else's life. I wish you were here to knock some sense in to me, though you'd probably call me an idiot and say I was justified, but that's not the point. The point is….I don't want to be like him, Nick. I don't want to believe that all humans are horrible, inferior beings because I know they aren't. I want him to change, to see we can co-exist….I don't want to end up thinking like him. I wish I could show him we can trust humans; they can help make this planet an Eden, just like Rem said."

Drawing a few more tiny crosses in the sand with his index finger, he continued speaking aloud. "One thing he _is _right about is I have to let you go….I won't forget you," he then hurriedly added as if the priest would take the first statement as an implication he would. "But this is goodbye, I guess….Goodbye, Nicholas D. Wolfwood. I, um….I love you," he concluded softly as if keeping the sentiment a secret from anyone who may be nearby.

He stood up, gazed at the improvised memorial a minute longer, and then shuffled back to the ship. The men put in charge of watching him poked fun at his display of honoring his fallen friend, yet he acted as if he couldn't hear them. He wandered for a bit, Daniel held on to his leash again, and he stopped once he arrived at the huge, front foyer area where Knives had left him earlier. Granting his body another rest, he sat down and delicately, he brushed his fingers along the side of his right leg, feeling the bandages were damp from fresh blood. While his attention was on his wounds, he didn't notice a few more people surrounding him. Suddenly, someone held a cloth over his nose and mouth from behind. Just as he began to pull on the stranger's wrist to move the unpleasant smelling object away from his face, his eyes rolled back and he passed out.

* * *

><p>The facial hair was coming in nicely. Wolfwood thought it lucky that he hadn't bothered to shave within the past week or so due to his priorities and focus being elsewhere. He also hadn't had his hair trimmed in awhile and decided letting it grow would be another way to help disguise himself.<p>

"Well?" he asked his audience. Meryl, Millie, and Livio all surveyed his appearance, determining what else needed to be done and if the plan had any chance of working.

"What if…." Millie began then paused as she re-contemplated her thought. "What if he dyed his hair?"

"That would look too weird," Meryl answered. "Hair one color and beard another? If Knives is as smart as everyone claims he is, he might get suspicious and think Nicholas is trying to hide something by obviously dyeing it."

"Darn it."

"I think now what we should be most concerned about are his eyes. You can really recognize someone just by their eyes."

"She's got a good point," Livio agreed.

Wolfwood huffed in annoyance. "What am I supposed to do? Take them out?"

"What about contacts? You could make them blue or green that way," Meryl offered.

"Fine, I'll get some. Other than that, think I'll pass?"

"He needs some different clothes."

"Yay! Shopping!" Millie exclaimed happily.

"How many times has Knives seen you in person anyway?" Meryl went on.

"Twice, maybe?"

"Enough times to remember him fairly clearly," Livio added. "I wouldn't be surprised if the guy has photographic memory or something."

"Alright, so other than change of eye color and a new wardrobe, I should be fine?"

The three judges looked at one another, consulted quietly amongst themselves, and after a minute, they seemed to reach a conclusion. Meryl was chosen to deliver the final verdict.

"You should be fine," she said with a smile.

"Thank god," the priest mumbled.

Millie jumped up excitedly. "Alright! Let's go tell them we need to make a stop in the nearest city ASAP!"

* * *

><p>As if awaking from a deep sleep, Vash groggily opened his eyes and was unsure of where he was. He gathered that he was in some sort of utilities room, judging by the large sink to his left, cleaning supplies, and numerous mechanical equipment. Enormous dread welled within him when he realized the surface he was on rested at an incline with his head pointed to the floor and that he couldn't move his legs or sit up. Leather straps kept him securely pinned to the tilted table he was laying on – two across his legs, one over his abdomen and forearm, and one traversing his chest and upper arms.<p>

"Hello?" he called out timidly, his eyes searching the area. "Someone there? Hello?"

He considered reaching out to Knives mentally, but decided it'd probably be best if his brother was left out of the situation for now. The door suddenly opened, and he hurriedly turned his head to see who it was. A wave of panic swept through him at the sight of Legato, followed by Daniel and Nathan.

"Finally awake are you?" Legato greeted as they approached the gunman. "I'm delighted. I worried we wouldn't have time."

Vash stared at him defiantly, though his quivering voice gave away his inner fear. "You can't do anything to me. Knives' orders. You wouldn't really want to go against him now, would you?"

"He never has to know, and he won't if you don't tell him."

"And what if I do?"

"Then it'll be as if you pulled the trigger yourself. For one so steadfast in your principle of never killing, I'm compelled to believe you couldn't handle having our deaths on your conscience. It would be your fault, after all, that he'd terminate us. Now, will you be telling him or shall I simply give you a gun after this so you can take care of us right away?"

Vash's stern gaze softened, making Legato grin in satisfaction.

"I thought so. Your potential is stifled by your pathetic need to maintain her nonsense teachings; she made you weak. However, if it weren't for that, I wouldn't be able to disregard the consequences and cause you the exceptional suffering you deserve."

"What is it this time then? Dislodging my joints again? Breaking bones? Electrocution?" His eyes flickered to the other two men before he added apprehensively, "Sex?" A sinister smile was all he received for a response, which unsettled him greatly. The frequent exploitation of his body had robbed him of practically every bit of self-worth he possessed, had sent him spiraling into a state of perpetual humiliation.

Without warning, Nathan held Vash's head against the table, making the outlaw thrash about as much as he could the instant he felt the strong hands on his forehead and jaw. A wet handkerchief was stuffed in to his mouth, forcing it to stay open and muffling any noises of objection and struggling he made. His arm twisted, legs tried kicking as he fought to free himself. The adrenaline pumping through him caused his heartbeat to double in speed and his breathing to quicken rapidly. Again, he thought about calling to his twin for help, but stopped himself just before he mentally shouted Knives' name; he couldn't do it, couldn't bear having the weight of guilt and responsibility for their deaths hang over him as a result of his brother rescuing him. Legato was right – he might as well put a bullet in their heads after this was done because it'd be the same thing as telling Knives later about what happened.

Despite having resigned himself to enduring whatever terrible thing Legato had planned for him, he continued to squirm frenziedly under the restraints. A damp cloth was placed over his nose and mouth, and with wide eyes he saw Daniel at his left lifting a bucket that was soon being held above his face.

"Though I doubt anyone would notice another mark on your hideous form, I don't care to take any chances of my Master finding one. Besides, I believe this will be just as gratifying for me and torturous for you," Legato stated with a slight laugh.

Steadily, Daniel began to pour the contents of the bucket onto the plant's face. Instinctively, Vash held his breath to keep the water out of his nose and mouth, but he could still feel it seeping through the cloths. He writhed about, straining to liberate himself from his bonds, yet the straps remained tight as ever. Nathan kept his head immobile no matter how much he attempted to violently turn it from side to side. After ten seconds he gasped for air; terror engulfed him when he found he couldn't take a breath. The rag clung to his nostrils, lips, and inside his mouth.

_I can't breathe! I can't breathe! What do I do?! _

His eyes darted about the room as if searching for an answer, though only found the entertained expressions of his captors. He wanted to claw at his chest as if that would alleviate the feeling of suffocation. A handful of times, his gag reflex kicked in, but the water kept filling his throat and nose nonetheless.

After thirty seconds, his eyes started to roll back and his vivacity lessened due to unconsciousness settling in. The pouring stopped just before he slipped away, the cloths removed, and he was mercifully turned to the side. Harshly, he coughed and sputtered, rasping for air at the same time, and shook involuntarily. It was indescribable relief, something like he imagined one would experience upon breaking the ocean's surface from having been stuck at the bottom for too long. Unfortunately, it was quickly replaced by extreme panic as he was returned to his original position and the cloths were once again in his mouth and on his face.

"No!" he yelled, his voice muffled and breathless. "Don't!"

The process was repeated, however this time, he lasted only twenty seconds before they stopped in order to keep him conscious.

"How does it feel?" Legato asked contemptuously. "I imagine it must be a rather frightening thrill."

"Like…." Vash began, his chest heaving as he panted. "I'm drowning….No more….I can't…." He was unable to refrain from shedding numerous tears caused by his inconsolable fear.

"Oh, but you will. You're nowhere near close to atoning for your sins against my Master."

"No! P-please," he added shamefully, detesting himself for resorting to begging. But there was simply no way he could take any more. There were many things he could withstand, many ways he could be made to suffer and never show weakness by pleading, yet this method had proven to be one of the worst. It made him feel closer to death than he ever wished to be. "I'm sorry for the trouble I've brought him, the trouble I've ever caused him! Please, don't do it!"

Legato became more animated than Vash had ever seen him as he laughed in response to the gunman's plea. "If only he could hear you at this moment. I'm sure it would bring him immense satisfaction."

Vash's eyes strayed to the side and were alarmed to see Daniel ready with the bucket again. "No, please. I'm begging you!"

The blonde kept shouting even after the cloths returned, though suddenly stopped when the steady stream of water cascaded on to him. On the fifth round, his torturers let the liquid flow until he passed out. The last thought he had was believing it was the end, and it gave him some solace; at last, he'd be in a utopia with Wolfwood and Rem.

He'd reach Eden.

* * *

><p>An hour and a half later, Vash jerked himself awake and loudly gasped for air like a suffocating fish flopping around in the sand. He sat up on the bed he was on, clutched his chest, and madly looked about his surroundings. There was nobody present, and the room he'd been put in greatly resembled the one he'd occupied on the Ark.<p>

"I'm….alive," he mumbled in disbelief. With his entire body quaking relentlessly, he touched his face, checked his pulse, and then leaned against the wall that the bed was pushed up against. "I'm alive," he repeated, this time with disappointment.

At the sound of the door opening, he scrambled to his feet and stood as if ready to defend himself, eyes large and highly alert. He instantly let his guard down when his brother entered alone and all but ran to him, throwing his arm around the neck of an obviously confused Knives.

"Vash?" the older twin questioned, slowly putting his arms around the other plant to return the hug. "What's with you?"

The blonde shut his eyes tightly, an overwhelming urge coming over him to weep with joy and from the feeling of being protected now that Knives was there. "Nothing," he whispered, smiling against the crook of the man's shoulder. "I just really missed you."

"You've never missed me enough to act like this. What's wrong?"

"I, uh….I had a bad dream. It seemed so real, so I'm just glad to see it wasn't. That's all."

Knives gently pushed Vash away in order to gaze at him directly. He scrutinized his twin's bright emerald eyes, which stared back at him innocently, and could sense something lurking behind their loving appearance. "That's _not _all. What's going on? Did something happen?" His expression suddenly became one of suspicion and fury. "Did someone hurt you?"

"N-no! Of course not! No one disobeys you; they know that."

"And _I _know when you're lying, Vash."

"I'm not, I swear! Nothing happened!"

It was evident the gunman was not going to tell him what the problem really was, prompting him to want to test exactly how far the younger plant would take this affectionate act, to see how easy it was to make Vash submit to him. Stepping closer to his brother to where their bodies were almost touching, he cupped Vash's face in his hands and murmured, "You dreamt I was gone then, is that it?"

Vash trembled at the thumbs caressing his cheeks and from the abrupt change of tone in Knives' voice. "Y-yes."

"Don't you think you'd be better off having me dead?"

"What?! No! Why would you say that?"

"I can be rather unkind to you sometimes."

"But I love you." His breathing became faster as one of Knives' hands slid down his front and began rubbing him through his clothing.

"Do you?"

"Y-Yes," he answered somewhat breathlessly.

The older plant's free hand undid his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his black slacks, and he purred, "Show me."

Vash glanced downward, realizing what his twin wanted. Although he wanted to refuse and chastise the other man for making him feel like all he was good for was performing sexual favors and putting him in submissive positions, he hoped it'd be a way to pacify Knives for awhile and keep him from prodding into the situation farther. Keeping his eyes downcast to hide the degradation they now conveyed, he got on his knees, removed the semi-hard member from the man's boxers, and took it in to his mouth. A hand firmly gripped the top of his skull, occasionally tugging on his hair as he diligently sucked and twirled his tongue around the tip every now and then. If he could make it good enough, bring his brother to the edge of a remarkable orgasm and beyond, there was a chance that Knives would just forget about this conversation, and Vash wouldn't have to worry about continuing to lie in order to conceal the truth. By the sound of the other plant's low moans and light panting, the gunman felt more and more confident in his plan.

He had no idea Knives remained two steps ahead, like usual, in the mind games they played with one another, had no idea he'd already lost because he possessed the losing card that would eventually turn face up on the table.

* * *

><p>The change of wardrobe and contacts put Wolfwood much more at ease about being in front of Knives again. Donning a white dress shirt, black vest, and navy blue trousers, he passed the approval test of not only the insurance girls and Livio, but Luida as well. His eyes were now a pastel, light blue color, and he traded in carrying the Punisher for two pistols strapped in holsters at his thighs. He still felt the need to have some sort of cross with him and decided to purchase a necklace with a silver charm in the shape of one while they'd been out shopping; instead of wearing it around his neck, he kept it tucked in the left pocket of his slacks.<p>

"I think you have nothing to worry about," Meryl stated confidently.

"Easy part's over then. It's looking like either tomorrow night or the morning after, we'll be there."

Millie chimed in, "And you can't forget to tell Mr. Vash 'hello' and that we miss him very much if he's there!" She saw incredible sadness sweep across the priest's visage, prompting her to ask with sincere confusion, "What's wrong? Was it something I said?"

Wolfwood forced a smile and replied solemnly, "No, you didn't say anything wrong. If I see him, I'll be sure and tell him that for you, alright?"

Millie instantly perked up, clapping her hands together. "Great!"

"Hey Millie, why don't we leave these two alone," Meryl interjected and started pushing her friend out of the room ahead of her. "I'm sure they're tired. Good night boys!"

When the two of them were gone, Livio turned to his partner, who appeared extremely despondent.

"You okay?" he questioned.

Even though he felt nauseous, Wolfwood nodded. "I'm fine."

"Are you going to be able to do this?"

"I've been through worse."

"I'm serious. Are you really going to be able handle seeing him? If you have even the tiniest bit of pity showing on your face, Knives will see it."

"I'll be fine."

"I can do this alone-"

"No. I'm going. And when the time comes, I'll kill him myself."

Though he greatly doubted the preacher's ability to keep a stoic expression at all times, Livio let the subject rest and didn't argue; a spark of determination and anger was burning in Wolfwood's eyes, and he knew there was no dissuading him otherwise.

They went to settle into their own rooms for the night with few other words being exchanged. As Wolfwood stretched out on his bed, he smoked one more cigarette for the day and played through different scenarios in his mind of what would happen when they got there. In each one, Vash was already broken.

_If you're there, just hang on a little bit longer, Spikey. Whether he's defeated or not, we'll make it out of there together….one way or another…._

* * *

><p>It was difficult not to beg Knives to let him share his room for the night. In fact, Vash had half expected his brother to keep him close by until the next morning in part due to how distressed he'd been over his "dream;" the one night he genuinely wanted to sleep next to Knives, the older twin didn't care to share his bed. Sitting alone on his own, huddled against the corner of the wall and with a tattered sheet wrapped around him, Vash was very much awake and shivered as if freezing. Every noise he heard, his head snapped up in order to look in the direction it had come from. The constant threat of them returning dulled the stinging pain from his stab wounds almost entirely; he was free to concentrate solely on staying alert and awake.<p>

He wouldn't go to sleep, _couldn't _go to sleep. No, that's what they _wanted _him to do. Make it easier to ensnare him if he wasn't on the offensive. Weaponless and one arm gone, he was prepared to fight back with everything he had regardless. He wouldn't kill anyone, but had decided inflicting whatever severe injuries he could was completely acceptable.

Four in the morning rolled around, finding him frequently rubbing his drooping eyelids as he struggled to stay awake. He knew the moment he drifted to sleep, they'd come for him. Numerous times, he could feel the wet cloth once more on his face, gasped for air from experiencing the sensation of suffocating; it drove him to tears as he was hurled into a sea of anxiety. He almost called to Knives on several occasions too, yet always managed to regain control of himself just before he mentally projected the name.

By ten o'clock he was barely able to keep his eyes open. There were voices and footsteps that sounded outside, though he wasn't sure whether they were real or if he was delirious. The one noise he _did _know was real was that of the door opening, melting away the sleepiness and replacing it with an adrenaline rush. He sat upright immediately and tightly held on to the sheet around him as if it was a shield of protection. There was no need, however, to ready himself for an unfair fight; Knives stepped in to the room, making him relax practically instantly and slump against the wall again.

"You look terrible," Knives observed bluntly, taking note of his brother's pale and quaking form in addition to the redness of his eyes and the slightly darkened skin under them. "What's wrong with you?"

"Another bad dream," the blonde offered lamely, his voice little more than a whisper.

The older plant came closer, his gaze never straying from the jade ones that were now looking down, and sat beside his twin. "What was it this time?" He knew damn well it wasn't a dream that had Vash in a state of fright; it was the same thing that had bothered the gunman the night before, and he was sure as hell going to find out the truth somehow. Vash could continue to play his little game of deception, but would ultimately lose.

"I….don't remember. Listen, Knives…." The younger twin yawned sleepily and collapsed onto his brother, head resting in the man's lap. "….can I come with you today? I can help. It'd make less work for you."

"Vash-"

"Or just…." His eyelids were now tremendously heavy, and he couldn't keep them from closing anymore. "….stay here with me…." He mumbled some more words and then was quiet, taken away by sleep.

Staring at the other plant's calm, perfect face, Knives sighed and stroked the outlaw's hair gently with one hand while the other rubbed the man's arm. He was irritated with Vash for withholding something from him, but was also very worried; he couldn't remember the last time he saw his brother this nervous and jumpy. Only recently had he allowed others to take part in administering punishment on his twin, had deemed it necessary in order to make Vash see just how ridiculous and frivolous his empathy was for humans by having them disgrace him in the worst way possible – but his servants were _only _supposed to touch the blonde if he gave permission. Someone had disobeyed him, had trespassed on his property. He wasn't sure which made him more furious: the fact someone went against him or that someone had toyed with something of his – his beloved, beautiful Vash. And if they had touched his twin in _that _manner without him present….

Knives snarled at the thought, jealousy building within him. The person or persons who had made his brother terrified enough to not even want to sleep would pay. They would pay dearly, be left wishing for death by the time he was finished with them.

Whatever had plagued Vash seemed to have dissipated in his dreams, for he slept tranquilly; for ten minutes, Knives served as a pillow for him. At last, the older plant slid out from under him and silently left the room. There was no way to lock the door, leaving Knives to decide that he'd simply have to check on him frequently.

"You look troubled, Master," Legato commented silkily as Knives made his way to the storage area for the stolen plants. "May I ask why?"

"My dear brother," was the casual reply. With the servant trailing behind him, Knives didn't witness the repulsed expression Legato had. He suddenly stopped, turned around, and questioned, "Was there an incident I should know about?"

"None at all. Your men fear and respect you, Master. I don't know of any that would defy such a serious order."

"_No one _is to go near him. Alert me if someone does. They will regret it."

The attention Knives was doting on his twin made Legato want to pay Vash a visit and have the outlaw strangle himself. But that just wouldn't do; he'd simply have to be more careful when considering ways to torment the younger plant, couldn't discount any possible traumatized reactions Vash may have. On a more positive note, the servant was beyond thrilled that not only had the gunman suffered physically from the simulated drowning, but was apparently left mentally scarred as well according to what little Knives said. There was plenty more Legato wished to do with Vash; he'd just have to take into consideration how the blonde may disclose that an ordeal occurred in the way he'd behave afterward.

If anything, Knives could put him in charge of watching over the Humanoid Typhoon, which would give him plenty of opportunities to continue his fun.

* * *

><p>Every thirty minutes Knives returned to check on his twin. Each time, there was no indication any foul play had happened while he was away; Vash was still just as he'd left him – peacefully asleep, curled up on his side, and loosely clutching the sheet around him. The older plant would stay for a few minutes in case the gunman woke up; he wanted to be the first thing Vash saw, to reinforce the fact that they only had each other and only needed each other.<p>

On the tenth time he went to his brother, Knives sat on the floor next to the bed, caressed the man's face and hair, and wondered if he could communicate with him despite the fact that he wasn't awake. It was something he pondered about in recent years, yet always forgot to try now that Vash was here or was too tired himself to project a thought to his twin whenever they slept beside one another.

"_Vash?" _He waited a moment before repeating the name. _"Vash." _

"_I want to go home," _was the reply, surprising Knives from not only getting a response, but due to the sadness with which it was said.

"_Where are you now?"_

"…_.I miss them."_

"_Who, Vash?"_

"_I don't want to."_

"_Don't want to what?"_

"_Where are you?!"_

Knives moved on to the bed to lie beside his brother, kissed his forehead, and continued to stroke the blonde's cheek with his thumb. _"I'm here." _

He wasn't sure Vash was even talking about him – by the sound of it, the outlaw's unconscious thoughts were completely sporadic and unrelated to one another – but he chose to believe that was the case. To him, Vash would never have to ask such a question because he would never leave his brother again.

Him and Vash, as it always should've been.

* * *

><p>After an hour passed with the two of them lying together, Vash finally stirred and opened his eyes. Within seconds of becoming aware he wasn't alone, he stiffened, causing Knives to quickly try and placate him by gently massaging the back of his head and whispering, "Relax. It's just me." Hearing his twin's voice made the younger plant practically melt against his brother instantly and feel at ease.<p>

"Did you sleep well?" Knives asked.

"Yeah," was the tired answer.

"We'll be leaving tomorrow."

"Where to?"

"Inepril."

Exhaling a deep breath, Vash snuggled closer to the other man and mumbled, "Sounds nice."

It was difficult for Knives to tell whether the blonde was actually awake enough to understand what that meant or if he simply didn't have it in him to care anymore. "Vash?"

"Hm?"

"You know why we're going there?"

"Mmhm."

"Why are we going?"

"Butterflies."

_Now _it was clear the outlaw was too sleepy to comprehend.

"Donuts."

Less than a minute later, Knives sensed Vash had fallen asleep again. He smiled as he let his hand wander down from the messy hair to rub the man's back; it felt like old times when they were on the Seed's ship and had shared the same bed often. It was in those instances when they experienced their deepest connection to each other, the one place they felt safe enough to reveal their thoughts, fears, emotions – the one place where they were free of judgment, free from being made to feel like they were outsiders and freaks of nature.

Holding on to the younger plant, Knives sighed and rested his face against the top of the gunman's head. Vash had always been the passionate, sensitive one, whereas he was always the more rational one. And he always protected Vash, did what was best for him – even if the blonde still didn't realize it.

"No," Vash muttered, accompanying the sudden verbalized word with several full body jerks. "No….Nnn….Stop….Don't…."

Regardless of the outlaw lively twitching against him, Knives didn't slacken his embrace or flinch from the numerous punches and kicks. "Shhh…."

"Don't…."

"You're fine. I've got you."

Within a minute Vash became quiet and went still. Though he was reluctant to leave, Knives knew there were things that needed taken care of if they were planning on setting out again in the morning.

Doting one last kiss onto his twin's forehead, he steadily got up from the bed – careful not to wake the other man – and closed the door noiselessly behind himself.

* * *

><p>Evening found Wolfwood lying in bed with one of Vash's tank tops strewn across his chest, fingers twiddling with the Humanoid Typhoon's sunglasses, and staring at the ceiling. In approximately ten hours, they'd be at the rendez-vous point of Knives' operation.<p>

The moment of truth was fast approaching.

He sighed, contemplating the different ways in which he'd react once he saw the homicidal plant. And then….if Vash was there….

Abruptly, he sat up and briskly headed for Livio's room. When his new partner opened the door, Wolfwood wasted no time in voicing his sudden thought.

"What if Vash recognizes me?"

Livio crossed his arms over his chest, sighed, and replied simply, "Will he?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Knives may have photographic memory, but I've only been in front of him twice. With Vash…."

Livio understood what the priest was going for – that he and Vash were far more _intimately_ familiar with one another, running the risk of the outlaw realizing who he was if he got too close. Knives wasn't the only one with a sharp mind and fantastic eyesight; Vash was his twin, after all. "Well…That's another good reason to keep your distance from him."

"What if he does?"

"Just deny it. It's all you can do. Or…."

"Or what?"

Livio stared at him for a moment before sharing the idea he knew Wolfwood would strongly oppose. "Hit him."

The preacher's expression morphed to one of total disbelief.

"Rough him up a little."

"What in the hell would I do that for?! I'm sure he's already been pummeled senseless numerous times by his brother!"

"_You _would never do that to him unless you got into a heated argument or something, right?"

"Right."

"You'd never hit him when he's down, would you?"

"No. What kind of friend – or priest – would do that?"

"There you go. Might sway him to re-think that _you_ aren't really you."

Wolfwood considered this reasoning for a period until he at last stated glumly, "I guess if that's what it comes to."

On more than one occasion, the clergyman had entertained the thought of giving Vash a good whack or two, wanted to punch him whenever he refused to kill someone who deserved to be wiped from existence. But he'd never wish to cause the outlaw serious harm, never acted out of some cruel desire to see him suffer. And whenever he _did _deal him a physical blow, Vash was always capable of giving him a nice smack in return – and usually did – but if he was weak and wounded from whatever atrocious things Knives had done to him, then it'd be as terrible as attacking an innocent, helpless animal. All the confessionals in the world wouldn't be able to cleanse Wolfwood of the tremendous guilt he'd feel from hurting Vash even more than the man already was. The blonde's deadened eyes that he'd seen in his dream continued to haunt him; how could he look at someone so empty of hope and strike him?

"Nick."

The sound of his name roused the priest out of his thoughts. "I'm fine."

"Worry about it if the time comes. You should try and get some sleep for now."

Wolfwood sighed and nodded. "Yeah. I'll see you in the morning."

Even though he tried falling asleep – closed his eyes, counted backwards from two hundred, did whatever he could think of that might shut off his mind – the preacher laid wide awake in bed. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to find Vash alive or if it really might be better if the Humanoid Typhoon was finally gone. Either way, he wouldn't be able to tell him what he should've told him when they parted ways.

_How does that song go that he used to sing? It's an old one…._

He eventually remembered and began humming Vash's favorite melody softly to himself. A minute or so later, he was lulled to sleep by the mellow tune, imagining the bubbly blonde lying beside him with the sweetest, most loving smile he had ever seen.

_Vash…._


	14. Spiders Eat the Butterfly

**A/N: **Sorry for taking so long. This one was very difficult to write (especially without my beta! :( ). After this, I need a little happy. I might take a small break to start another Trigun fic, but we'll see. :)

I'll leave you with this: if you've stuck with this story for this long and have come along for the tumultuous, sad journey of Vash's, I'm hoping you'll continue to do so after this chapter...

Much thanks to wolf93ee for the kind review! :)

* * *

><p>At eight in the morning, Wolfwood got the message that they were a dozen iles or so from Knives' operational hub. With a duffle bag provided to him, he packed some clothes and the like, and just before he opened the door to leave his room, he went to pick up the picture frame to look at it one last time. Giving a small smile, he voiced quietly, "I'll see you in a bit, needle-noggin," and after a minute or two, he set it down next to the man's sunglasses that he planned to leave behind as well.<p>

While he tried to eat something for breakfast (his anxiousness was making him nauseous), Luida briefed him and Livio on what the next step was. In order to remain undetected, the two of them were being dropped off where they currently were now and would have to complete the remainder of the trip on foot.

"Remember to be careful of what you say," Luida advised, "and how you act. We'll be listening through the transmitter in your earring, but some things may be too difficult to hear, so I ask that you repeat anything of importance to us when you get the chance and a description of any place the Ark may be vulnerable for when we move in."

As they went to stand on the lowering platform, a group had gathered to see them off, including Meryl and Millie who both appeared to be quite worried. Wolfwood offered them a smile, which they returned along with waving goodbye.

"You're our best hope at the moment," Luida stated. "Good luck."

In a matter of a couple of minutes, Livio and Wolfwood were standing in the open desert and watched as the aircraft flew away from the area until it was merely a speck on the horizon.

Turning to the priest, Livio asked, "Shall we?"

Breathing in deeply, Wolfwood nodded. "Let's get this over with."

* * *

><p>A tiny groan sounded from Vash as he woke up, and he put his hand against his stomach just as it gave a growl of its own. He hadn't eaten anything since the generous breakfast Knives had provided him with two days prior.<p>

"Hungry," he mumbled miserably.

Unhurriedly, he sat up and stayed seated on the bed, knowing his brother would no doubt be coming to get him at any time – hopefully, with food in tow. Simply imagining all the wonderful things he'd eaten last made his mouth water and his stomach continuously cry.

It wasn't long at all before the older plant strolled into the room and appeared content at finding the outlaw awake. The absence of any sustenance caused Vash to feel incredibly despondent; his depressed mood was reflected in his dull eyes that stared at the other man pleadingly.

"We're getting ready to leave," Knives explained. Checking to ensure the metal collar was still secured around the gunman's neck, he added, "Let's go."

"Knives?"

"Yes?"

"I'm really hungry."

"I'm sure you are."

The reply didn't give Vash the impression Knives particularly cared, prodding him to ask, "Can I have something?"

"Maybe later."

"Knives-"

"Come on." He tugged on the leash strong enough to make Vash fall forward onto the floor. "I said, 'We're leaving'."

Vash's legs shook as he stood and followed his twin. It was hard to remain upright, yet he persevered through the fatigue and pain, knowing it was surely better to walk than be dragged on the ground. They boarded the aircraft ahead of Knives' followers, who all trailed reverently behind him.

Spotting the line of men filing up the stairs leading to the Ark, Wolfwood started sprinting towards it.

"We have to hurry!" he yelled to Livio.

The two of them were little more than an ile away, and even though they were running quickly, he worried they wouldn't make it in time. There wasn't a way to tell how many followers had already gotten on or how many were left; if the current person just emerging from the stationary remnant vessel was the last, they'd be too late. Waiting for the Ark to return again was out of the question.

When they reached the staircase a minute later and saw several more men approaching, Wolfwood breathed a sigh of relief.

_We're here, we made it. Thank god. First part's done._

While Livio was busy acknowledging the many "welcome back's" and "congratulations'" people told him, the priest kept himself focused on the next obstacle in their way: fooling Knives.

The two of them were led by a couple of men, whom Livio addressed as Leo and Bradley and introduced Wolfwood as "John" to them, to the area of the Ark where the servants resided. A few rooms were unoccupied, and once they were alone in the one that was to be theirs, they dropped their bags on the floor and took a seat on the beds positioned across from each other.

"Well, we made it," Livio commented, echoing Wolfwood's previous thoughts. "None of them seem to suspect a thing."

"What made you think of 'John' for my name?"

"First one that came to mind. Now, what do you want to do?"

"Let's go find him. Get it over with."

A handful of people were walking by outside their room and mentioning food, prompting them to follow in hopes Knives would be around or someone could point them to him. After passing through a number of hallways, they arrived at a large room designated as the commons area. The majority of Knives' army was present, some eating a late breakfast while others just socialized at the four long tables. All at once, Wolfwood's heart seemed to stop. His gaze landed on the large throne-like chair near the front of the room, but it wasn't the person sitting in it that caught his attention; it was who was next to it that had him in disbelief. Seated cross-legged on the floor, head slightly lowered, blonde hair concealing part of his face, was Vash.

"Oh my god," Wolfwood whispered, dumbfounded.

It didn't seem possible; this couldn't be _the _Vash the Stampede. He appeared frail and terribly thin. His muscle tone had disappeared somewhat from the lack of physical activity and from his body eating the tissue for energy. For the time being, Wolfwood couldn't discern any new scars, though he didn't doubt their existence.

_Vash….Dear god….What has he done to you?_

He could feel the hopelessness, remorse, and self-blame emanating from his friend, which broke his heart and brought on a wave of guilt.

"Nick."

The preacher glanced at Livio, swallowed the knot in his throat, and nodded. "I'm okay."

"You sure you can do this?"

"Yes….let's do it."

Gradually, they began advancing across the area, and as the cheers for Livio's return continued, Knives turned his attention to the two of them and was instantly regarding Wolfwood with distrust. The blue eyes were so piercing, Nicholas almost couldn't hold his stare; however, he knew that if he didn't, it would immediately be cause for the hateful plant to scrutinize him more closely. Vash had no reaction whatsoever to his brother standing up or to the two men that came in front of them.

Extending his hand to shake Livio's, Knives greeted, "I'm pleased to see you've returned."

"It's my honor to come and serve you again, my Master."

"I trust you took care of him?"

"Yes, but he's actually the one who had the pleasure of finishing the task," Livio answered, pointing to Wolfwood.

Again, Knives' icy eyes were on the priest, surveying him up and down. "You?" he asked tartly.

"Yes," Nicholas replied in a voice pitched a bit lower than usual. At the sound of it, he saw Vash sit up straighter, yet continued to keep his head bowed.

"And you are?"

"John."

"I enlisted his help for the task to ensure it'd be successful," Livio added, sensing Knives' skepticism.

"It was an honor to do your wishes," Nicholas stated.

Knives smirked, briefly glimpsed at his twin, and then sat down. "It would delight me to hear how you made that traitor suffer."

Being fully aware the man wanted to be painted a grisly picture, the preacher decided to give him just that. "We intercepted him outside of December. After a long fire fight, we closed in. Broke his legs so that there would be no possibility of escape. Livio kept him sedated while I cut off the tips of his fingers one by one, sliced open his abdomen, carved your name into his back, and finally finished with sawing off his head. Whenever he passed out, we waited until he regained consciousness to make sure he suffered as much as possible."

During his story, a satisfied grin swept across Knives' countenance, and Vash began visibly shaking.

"We left him in the desert for the vultures to feed off of."

"Excellent."

The voice that spoke next surprised everyone.

"Did he say anything?" Vash inquired timidly, at last lifting his head to gaze at the two men for the first time. His eyes were brimming with tears, and upon seeing his devastated expression and gaunt face, Wolfwood was overwhelmed by the urge to embrace him lovingly.

Instead of physically consoling him, the priest decided to try and assuage his grief by responding with, "Yes, he did."

The outlaw stared at him with great anticipation, his heart racing.

With as much indifference as he could manage, he continued, "He said, 'Tell Spikey I love him.' Is that you?"

The tremendous amount of sorrow that washed over Vash's features was indescribable; Wolfwood wondered if he'd done the right thing in divulging his true feelings for the Humanoid Typhoon or if he'd simply made it all worse. As the blonde slowly looked to the floor once more, tears tracking down his cheeks, the preacher could discern he was bursting into pieces on the inside. It would only take two words to alleviate the gunman's emotional anguish, to say "It's me," and bring Vash a minute bit of happiness in the oppressing Hell he'd been submerged in, but it wouldn't do anyone any good in the long run.

A callous chuckle came from Knives as he witnessed his twin's reaction. "You'll have to excuse him, gentlemen. He had a disgusting fling with that piece of human garbage and ended up stupidly falling in love with him, didn't you, little brother?" He ended his sentence in a patronizing tone, and Wolfwood wanted to punch him for it. "I hope you remember it well, the last time he fucked you. You've heard the news directly from the person who killed him; he's dead, Vash. I expect you'll truly quit your whining about him now-"

Suddenly, Vash was up and lunging for Wolfwood, knocking him to the ground. He sat atop the preacher, put his hand around the front of the man's neck, and judging by the madness in his jade eyes, Wolfwood believed if someone didn't pry the plant off of him soon, Vash would forego the one rule he'd abided by his entire life and strangle him to death.

"YOU KILLED HIM!" Vash erupted angrily, stunning not only Knives and Livio from how loud and malicious he was, but the other thirty three men present as well that now watched as if it were entertainment. "YOU KILLED HIM! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?!"

It took both Vash's brother and Wolfwood's partner to pull the blonde away. Repeatedly, the outlaw lurched forward to get at Nicholas, and after the third time of being unable to break free from their hold, Vash struck Livio with a clenched fist and then did the same to his twin. Wrapped up in his rage, he didn't notice how infuriated Knives was now. The older plant wiped the traces of blood from under his nose, jerked the chain to Vash's collar, and got him to his feet.

"I am fed up with you," he snarled, and Vash suddenly realized he'd committed a grave mistake. "I'm done. If you're so in love with such inferior beings, then so be it. I'm turning you over to them; let them 'love' you back, or rather show you how much they don't care for you by being the animals they are."

Vash's voice wavered as he spoke hastily, "Knives, I'm sorry-"

"Maybe _this _will be the lesson you've needed to learn, that they are _not _worth protecting." He shoved the blonde forward and announced, "For one time only, he's yours. Do whatever you want with him. Fuck him, beat him, spit on him, break his bones – whatever, I don't care; as long as you leave him alive. You've all lost something because of him – family, friends, homes, children – all because of Vash the Stampede. Here's your chance to have at the legendary gunslinger and deal your own retribution."

Wolfwood could see his own feelings reflected in Vash's panicked, apprehensive expression. Steadily, Vash turned around to face what now looked like an angry mob, and then all at once, he started running. Pandemonium broke out as the group closed in on him like a wild herd chasing its prey. The priest stepped forward with the intention of racing to the aid of his friend, yet Livio halted him and warned, "Don't do it." Nicholas glared at him irately, though he didn't advance any farther.

_Lord, please help him, _he prayed silently. _Please do _some_thing to protect him!_

From out of nowhere, a chair suddenly struck Vash, sending him sprawling to the floor. In a matter of seconds, he was being raised up by his arm, and two people held him in place as others began violently punching him. One right after another, fists collided with his face, the sides of his skull, and his stomach. Whenever his head lolled forward after a blow, someone pulled on his hair to lift it up again in order for another man to get a clean hit in. Within less than a minute, blood was flowing from his nose, leaking from his mouth and puffy bottom lip, and vivid bruises were beginning to appear.

"You're more than welcome to join them," Knives offered casually as he took a spot next to Nicholas and excitedly watched the maltreatment of his twin. "I've lost count of how many times I've had to do this myself; he just never seems to learn, though."

The priest cringed at the words, his assumptions being proven correct that Vash had indeed been abused for some time now.

Someone shouted, "Make sure he stays conscious!" before Vash was thrown to the floor, and the group concentrated more on striking his entire body with their boot-clad feet than his head like they had been. Not knowing what else to do, Vash curled up to lessen the surface area of where they could hit him and placed his arm over his head in an attempt to shield it. His bloodied face had become so swollen, he couldn't open his right eye, and he was barely able to do so with his left. From all around him, he could hear the men yelling and swearing at him; he'd done well in keeping his pain un-vocalized, though in his mind, he was crying out.

After ten minutes the servants stopped, giving Vash a glimmer of hope that they were bored and done. As usual, he was proven wrong. Gruffly, he was hoisted up, stumbled as he was dragged toward one of the tables, and emitted a small groan from being thrown against the end of it. Someone pulled on his arm and held it on top of the table, causing him to bend over to where he was lying against the surface from the waist up. He was unable to focus, to make any sort of coherent thought or realize anything other than the throbbing anguish of his entire being.

"It's been awhile since any of us had a lady," one of the men stated, untying and lowering Vash's pants to his ankles while he spoke. "But you'll do just fine. I hear you're a good fuck anyway."

Groggily, Vash lifted his head and looked around slowly, and from where he stood, Wolfwood could sense the outlaw had no clue what was about to happen to him. It'd been absurdly difficult for the priest to keep from interfering while his friend was ferociously pummeled; now, it was proving almost impossible to refrain from rushing to the Humanoid Typhoon's side to help him. Watching the stranger sensually run his hands along Vash's beaten skin made Wolfwood seethe with rage and jealousy.

_For god's sakes, Vash! Do something! _he thought madly. _What's wrong with you?! Fight back! You're just going to lay there and take it?!_

He knew he was being extraordinarily harsh to Vash by thinking such things, yet he couldn't help but feel angry at the gunman for not doing anything to defend himself, to keep them from using him. It was clearly evident the plant was exhausted, and still, Wolfwood wanted to yell at him for not putting up a struggle.

"Would either of you like to have him first?" Knives asked generously. "I'll stop Robert now if you do. My best should have the privilege of going before anyone else."

Wolfwood's hands balled in to fists at his sides; somehow, he managed to reply calmly, "No, I'm fine."

"Livio?"

"I appreciate you thinking so highly of us, Master, but I'll abstain for now."

Knives shrugged and grinned. "Very well. Enjoy the rest of the show then. Oh, and I entrust you to escort him back to his room whenever they finish. Hall E, room four."

As Knives returned to his throne, Wolfwood was quite tempted to shoot him dead; by some miracle he didn't understand, he kept himself from drawing his weapons.

"Nicholas," he abruptly heard Luida's voice in his ear. "What's going on?

"Stop listening," he mumbled firmly. "Now."

"Nich-"

"Turn it off now!"

Vash wailed loudly as he was forcibly penetrated, causing the followers to roar with laughter and whoop in approval. With several jerking motions, the man eventually sheathed himself inside of the outlaw, who clawed at the table as if trying to crawl away. His face, which was fractured in a number of places, contorted into an expression of sincere agony and underlying mortification. Each vicious thrust Robert did elicited a shaky cry from the plant, making Wolfwood feel like his heart was being pierced by a bullet with every pitiful noise. He saw Vash's legs trembling as they strained to keep themselves from buckling, and he wanted so much for the gunman to kick the male behind him, but he knew it wasn't going to happen.

_You have to do something, Vash! Come on! I know you're stronger than this!_

Upon feeling someone's fingers petting his hair, Vash tried freeing his arm to stop whoever it was; he was unsuccessful and merely garnered more pairs of hands caressing him eagerly.

There'd been numerous times in his life where he'd been treated like a monster, an animal – those instances paled in comparison to how he felt now. In this moment he wasn't a person; he was simply an object to be used for whatever the group desired. He wasn't a living being. He had no value. The only emotion to feel other than utter humiliation was worthlessness.

"_Knives…." _he began wretchedly. Resting his head against the table, he continued telepathically, _"Please. Please don't let them do this. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." _

Knives laughed, entirely amused at his twin's resilient spirit being so obviously shattered at last. _"I'm sorry too, Vash. Sorry that you have to be taught this way."_

"_Knives please!"_

"_It's too late for that, dear brother."_

Vash lay panting and quietly whimpering as Robert finally ejaculated inside of him. Not five seconds after the servant pulled out and stepped to the side, a few shouted for the gunman to be flipped over. Groaning feebly, Vash was completely limp while he was turned to lie on his back, his legs dangling over the edge of the table. Even though his head currently felt like it weighed as much as a cinder block, he lifted it in an attempt to ascertain if this torture was indeed going to continue. The next in line hoisted and placed the plant's legs onto his shoulders, and after glancing downward at the Humanoid Typhoon's flaccid member, the man commented, "For a legendary outlaw, he doesn't disappoint! He's hung like an animal!"

The bout of laughter the observation brought on caused Vash's cheeks to redden from embarrassment, though one could barely discern it due to the bruising and blood staining his entire complexion. Wolfwood pretended as if he had an itch under his nose in order to conceal his mouth and the string of curse words he muttered.

Displaying signs of fighting back at last, albeit quite weakly, Vash sat up halfway and swung his fist to hit his assaulter. He missed entirely and was hurriedly sedated once more. Instead of someone pinning his arm down, however, it was held upward and without warning, a solid, metal object struck his elbow with incredible force. He screamed, and just as the hammer collided with his bone again and snapped his arm, his body was invaded.

Both Livio and Wolfwood had to look away from the grotesque injury for a brief moment in stark contrast to Knives, who seemed intrigued and excited by the damage. Lifelessly, Vash's arm fell to the table's surface with a thud, and he didn't dare move it from where it landed. The current abuser pumped in and out of him steadily, arousing a pitiful, tremulous moan from him with every powerful thrust.

"That's it!" someone jeered. "Get him squealing!"

Sweat had formed on his skin, making his body sticky enough to lie in place on the table instead of moving up and down ever so slightly from the continuous propulsions. At first, the servant believed the droplets on Vash's face were perspiration, but looking more closely, it was clear they were something else.

With a cruel chuckle, he announced, "He's crying!"

"What a wimp!"

"Just like the bitch he really is!"

"Poor little baby!"

"Cry baby!"

From the corner of his eye, Wolfwood saw Livio's fingers twitch at his sides and could sense his expression was one of agitation; the name understandably hit close to home for the former assassin, and while the priest was glad to see a bit of humanity displayed, he hated the situation that provoked it.

"I don't know how much longer I can watch this," he mumbled discreetly.

"Yeah….It's sickening."

"Livio, I have to do somethi-"

"No. Stay put. We can't do anything for him. I'm sorry."

The preacher closed his eyes, though it didn't do much to block what was happening from his mind; Vash's whimpers and sniffling, the servant's grunting, and the followers' cheering kept him from blacking out the scene.

"_WOLFY!"_

Wolfwood jumped in surprise at hearing his affectionate name ring in his ears as clearly as if it'd been said aloud. Frantically, he opened his eyes and stared at the outlaw's face. Again, the name was repeated by Vash's voice, and Wolfwood took note that his friend's lips hadn't moved.

_What's going on?! How is he doing that?! Am I just hearing things?! _Deciding to try the telepathic communication method, he projected the plant's name back mentally. _"Vash! I'm here! I'm here!"_

There was no answer. It didn't make sense. He wasn't the same species, wasn't related to Vash, had no special connection to the blonde like the one Knives shared with him – what could possibly be the reason for his sudden link with the gunman?

When the servant was finally done, he pushed Vash's legs off of his shoulders, and the weight of his limbs dropping from such a height caused the outlaw to fall off the edge of the table into a crumpled heap on the floor. He was forced on to his hand and knees, and although he almost shrieked from the agony from his arm supporting him, he remained in the position and kept his head bowed; his damp hair shrouded part of his visage, prompting Wolfwood to move to a spot where he could better see him.

"_Vash, can you hear me? Spikey!"_

"Hey! Get a load of this," one of the men said, kneeling beside the plant. Taking hold of Vash's cock, he began lightly tugging on it to work him into an erection. "I'm milking a cow!"

The spectators were immensely entertained. Wolfwood wanted to vomit.

"What's a cow say?"

Vash trembled as he wept and remained silent.

Slapping the gunman's cheek, he repeated, "What does a cow say?!"

"Stop," the blonde whispered between his hitched breaths. "Please stop."

Another fierce slap. "Answer, you piece of shit!"

There were a few noises that came from Vash that sounded as if he was sobbing before he uttered softly, "Mm….Moo."

"What's that? Can't hear you!"

"Moo."

"How does the little cow go?"

"M-moo."

Extraordinary shame engulfed Vash as his body responded to the unwanted groping. Nicholas' heart ached, yet at the same time, an intense possessiveness welled within him; nobody should be touching Vash in such a manner other than himself. Despite having sympathy for the plant while he was appallingly violated, Nicholas was suddenly enraged by his friend's willingness to allow it to continue.

_You're so spineless and pathetic, Vash! _he mused irritably. _Do you feel better about yourself? That you abided by your stupid belief of never killing? This is what you get for playing the martyr?! _They _don't care about you like _you _care about them! Why can't you see some people just aren't worth protecting?!_ _Why didn't you let me come with you?! You wouldn't be suffering like you are now!_

It took a couple of minutes before Vash tensed and gave a quivering moan as semen spurted onto the ground. There wasn't time to gather his composure; he winced at his hair being yanked upward and gagged uncontrollably from the firm cock that was shoved into his mouth. A muffled squeal sounded as another man entered him from behind. It was like a game of tug of war, rocking forward then backward, forward and backward; on occasion, the two men's thrusts synced with one another's, making Vash cringe from being squeezed between them.

"Sixty-billion double-dollars' worth of entertainment right here!" Daniel exclaimed humorously.

It was becoming more and more unbearable for Wolfwood to watch. When he saw the person in front order Vash to swallow his semen a few minutes later and then proceed to rub the tip of his dripping cock over the outlaw's beaten face, he turned away and almost threw up.

Once the other man was finished, Vash collapsed to the floor, was still for a moment, and then started dragging himself away from the crowd. They indulged him, allowing him to venture off, and gave him the impression they'd had their fun. Tears seeped out of the plant's swollen-closed right eye and flowed freely out of his left, which he tried to keep open as much as possible. It was an extremely taxing, excruciating endeavor, yet he went on with hauling himself across the area. Extending a tremulous hand, he latched onto a stranger's pant leg just as he crumpled to the ground entirely. Wolfwood glanced behind him, and his stomach dropped.

"Oh god, Spikey," he murmured discreetly.

"Toss him back, John!" Bradley yelled.

It took every bit of self-control he had to not reach down and envelope his friend in an amorous, protective hug.

"Hel-…." Vash whispered breathlessly. "P….plea-….I'm sorry…."

_I'm sorry too, Spikey, _he thought remorsefully.

Trying to conceal the dejection in his eyes, Wolfwood watched as his dearest friend was dragged back to the center of the crowd. Nathan held the outlaw's left leg in place as a couple of others briskly twisted his ankle until it broke, making Vash wail piteously; Knives was rather aroused by it, and Wolfwood couldn't handle observing any more of the brutalization. Somewhat hurriedly, the priest found the nearest way out, searched various rooms until he found a bathroom, and vomited in one of the toilets.

Sitting back against the stall door, he covered his eyes with his hand and wept.

Vash gasped in shock as he was suddenly drenched with cold water in an effort to keep him conscious and coherent. All at once he was consumed by panic, his memory having been triggered, and began thrashing about wildly.

"Not again!" he cried weakly. "Please, not again!"

Pretending like there'd been no frightened reaction or words muttered, Bradley pinned Vash down on his stomach and penetrated him. Knives, however, dwelled on the outburst for several minutes. It was one more piece to the puzzle of what'd happened to his brother just days prior. At the very least, he now had a good idea of what it involved.

After ten had taken their turn, there wasn't really much pain that stemmed from having intercourse. The numerous results of orgasm lingered inside of Vash, making it quite easy for the ones who still had yet to have a go with him move in and out of his body rather smoothly; there were streaks of the white fluid on the floor, finding its way onto Vash's skin as he was lugged across the area from one person to another numerous times.

It was understandable to Livio how it'd gotten to be too much for Wolfwood. In fact, it'd escalated into something so appalling, even the former Gung-Ho Gun wanted to leave; the foreign sentiment of compassion was returning, much to his displeasure.

_He doesn't deserve this. Can't believe I'm saying that when I hated him for so long and wanted to be the one to finally kill him. _

Vash could barely utter a sound anymore; there was no energy to do so. His breathing became heavy and at times erratic. His skin glistened with sweat, semen, and blood. More buckets of cold water were thrown on him whenever he looked to be on the verge of passing out.

If Knives was letting it continue for as long as it had, there wasn't a chance he'd stop it now; Vash surrendered to that fact and didn't bother calling to him for help again. He didn't bother saying any sort of objection anymore.

"Let me have a go with him!"

"So much for the legendary Humanoid Typhoon!"

"Vash the Stampede?! More like 'Vash the Fuck-Toy!'"

"I've waited so long to see him pay for all he's done!"

"Keep it going, boys!"

Many chose to take him from behind, and if someone wasn't copulating his mouth, he rested his head and torso on the floor to keep his arm from having to support his weight. The agonizing pain still remained, but he figured it best to stay off of it as much as possible. His knees bled and were becoming increasingly swollen, though he didn't have much of a choice in giving them a break to feel better. His throat and mouth were sore and raw, his body spent and aching.

He lost count after twenty.

As he coughed and sputtered after the present assaulter of his oral orifice pulled out, he also began grunting with the man behind him due to the intensity of the person's thrusts. He fell to the ground, leaving only his lower half elevated and exposed due to the servant's firm grip on his hips to keep his backside up and in place.

Every one of Knives' followers satiated their lust and thirst for revenge by way of the Humanoid Typhoon's body. The entire ordeal lasted nearly three hours. Once they were all satisfied, they leisurely started leaving the room, many laughing callously as they did so. Silently, Livio observed Knives stroll to his twin, who was lying immobile on his side, stare at him for a moment, and shake his head in disappointment.

"Did you learn something, Vash?" he asked glumly. "I don't want to have them have to teach you this again. This was your fault. Letting humans live, continuing to show them compassion….it will get you _nothing_. Nothing but more disgusting scars and torment. There is no reason to allow them to stay alive. This planet is _ours, _Vash. It will be _our _Eden; I hope you will join me at last in what I've only ever tried to give you, dear brother."

With a sigh, he turned and walked out, leaving Livio alone with the barely conscious gunman. For a minute or so, Livio contemplated what he should do. He knew his orders were to ensure the Master's brother was returned to his quarters, but the last thing he wanted to do was go anywhere near the outlaw.

_Just get it over with._

He found the plant's clothing, reluctantly knelt beside him, and winced at the sight of him up close. Vash's breathing sounded as if he was wheezing – raspy and shallow – and Livio couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not.

"Hey," he began gently. "Let's get you dressed, alright?"

There wasn't an answer, though he really didn't expect one. Demonstrating extreme care, he commenced guiding Vash's legs one at a time into the dark blue pair of pants; the only indications the blonde was still awake were from the sounds of distress he made. As much as Livio didn't want to touch him more than he already was, he knew Vash wouldn't be able to walk on his own.

Cautiously, he lifted the plant to carry in his arms and said, "Now time to get you to your room."

He remembered Knives' directions, and in just a few minutes, Vash was lying on his own bed. Spotting a washcloth on the edge of the small sink across the room, Livio wet it, squeezed out the excess water, and delicately worked on cleaning some of the blood and semen from the man's face. A number of tears trickled down to Vash's damp hair, yet he was mostly quiet for the duration Livio bathed his visage.

Once finished, the former assassin stated, "You must be thirsty. Let me get you something to drink."

Not seeing any sort of dish, he had the idea to soak the washcloth once more and then returned to sit beside him again.

"Sorry, but this will have to do for now," he apologized while wringing out the water into Vash's parched mouth, though the plant didn't seem bothered; rather, he was quite grateful for anything at all.

Gazing at the outlaw, Livio felt lost. There was nothing he could do to console him or make things better. It'd been a long time since he'd felt helpless. Realizing there wasn't reason to stay, he started to get up, but immediately stopped upon feeling fingertips brush against his hand.

"Livio, right?" Vash whispered almost inaudibly.

"What?" He wasn't sure if he imagined the voice or not; on closer inspection, he could see the blonde's left eyelid struggling to open fully and that under it, the other man was indeed looking at him.

"Your name….Livio?"

"Yes….That's right."

Vash's lips quivered as he tried to smile. "Thank you."

To say he was astonished would've been an understatement. He was entirely flabbergasted, and his stomach churned. After everything that'd happened, Vash was actually _thanking _him? How could it be that the plant wasn't filled with hate like his brother after what'd just taken place? How was it that he could even smile and say something so kind after the horrendous violations he'd just endured physically, mentally, and emotionally? And as far as he knew, Livio was the one who'd participated in butchering his beloved friend. How did he have it in him to say those two words?

There was nothing to reply with except for, "You're welcome."

Quickly, Livio left, unable to handle being near Vash any longer. The instant he was outside of the room, he could hear the gunman begin to sob weakly.

"I need a break," he mumbled and hurried to his quarters. When he entered he was surprised to find Wolfwood sitting alone with his head bowed, hands clasped in front of him, and staring at the floor. Without a word, Livio sat on his own bed and practically mimicked the priest's posture.

It was five minutes before he broke the uneasy silence.

"I took him to his room," he stated quietly. "He's resting now."

No response.

"Can you believe he actually thanked me for it?"

Wolfwood smirked. "Typical Vash," he muttered.

"Are you okay?"

Before he could respond, Luida's voice sounded in his ear asking, "Nicholas, what happened? Was it Vash? Did you see Knives?"

"Knives isn't a problem. He doesn't suspect anything."

"And Vash?"

The preacher sighed, rubbed his face tiredly, and explained, "We, um….He's alive."

"What was all of that commotion earlier? Is he hurt?"

"Some things happened, yes. That's all you need to know."

"Nic-"

"We're both tired. Just check in with us tomorrow, alright?"

Noting the severe sadness in his tone, Luida decided it best not to press the situation farther. "Alright. I'll speak with you tomorrow."

There was a pause before Livio questioned again, "Are you okay?"

"No," Wolfwood confessed, shaking his head. "I'm not. How are we any better than Knives? We just watched it happen like he did and didn't do a thing to help him. I can't ever forgive myself for that, Livio. Ever. I failed him again."

"There was nothing you could've done. Knives would've killed you in an instant. And who knows? If you revealed who you were, things may have ended worse for Vash."

"I can't forget how he looked at me. I shouldn't have said anything to him….How many actually….?"

"Does it matter?"

Abruptly, Wolfwood stood and attempted to remember where Knives had said Vash's room was. It took him practically fifteen minutes to find it, and when he did, he inhaled deeply, grasped the doorknob, and turned it gradually. To the right of the entrance was the decrepit twin-sized bed with a sleeping Vash lying on it. His ankle was grotesquely colored and swollen, and his arm and face appeared somewhat similar. The black and purple surrounding his right eye was startling, the contusions and swelling alarming, and Wolfwood felt heartbroken.

With tears blurring his vision, he went to stand beside the bed, gazed at the plant's slumbering expression, and whispered, "I'm sorry, Spikey. I wish there was something I could do to protect you. I made the mistake of letting you face him alone once; I don't want to do that again…."

Leaning down, he placed a soft, loving kiss onto Vash's forehead and stroked the blond hair affectionately.

"I love you, Spikey. Just hang in there. We'll get you out of here. I promise."

Just as he was leaving, he suddenly heard his friend's voice in his mind like he had before.

"_Wolfy."_

Sharply, he turned to look at the other man, though it was clear Vash hadn't woken up.

"_Vash? Are you there? It's me. I'm here. Open your eyes. Please."_

Nothing.

Not knowing what else to do, the priest reluctantly left. Leaning back against the closed door, he shut his eyes and started uttering a prayer.

"Dear Father in Heaven, please be with him and give him your love. I ask that you please protect him and help him in his ordeal. Let him know he's not alone….In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen."

* * *

><p><em>Blue sky and white clouds were all around him. In the near distance, there was a dark outline of someone standing, and as Vash drew closer, he could discern a large cross planted in front of the person for him to lean forward on. At the smell of smoke, the plant grinned, relieved, and although he wanted to simply run to him, tackle him to the ground, and hug him, he had control enough to contain his giddiness and proceed to him nonchalantly. <em>

"_Hi there, Wolfy," he greeted cheerily. "How have you been?"_

_Adjusting the cigarette in his mouth, Wolfwood replied uninterestedly, "Much better without you."_

_The answer took Vash by surprise. "Huh? What do you mean?"_

"_Without all your ridiculous dribble about not killing and the trouble you cause, things are pretty nice and quiet. Just like I always wanted. The orphanage is doing great, and I don't have to worry about protecting an idiot like you because he's too self-righteous to do the dirty work himself."_

"_That's not it at all. It's wrong to take the life of another-" _

"_There you go again!" the priest yelled, turning around to face the gunman. "I'm sick of you, Vash! Do me a favor and stay the hell away from me. Go back to Knives or something."_

"_I…." Vash swallowed and blinked a few times before continuing. "I didn't realize you felt that way, I….I'm sorry, Wolfy."_

"_And would you stop calling me that?! I hate that stupid little pet name! Why do you insist on using it?!"_

"_You call me by different names-"_

"_Because you _are _those names! You _are _a needle-noggin. Your hair _is _spikey. I'm not your lover or someone in need of your terms of adoration! I'm not even your friend! You were an assignment. Nothing more. I've completed my mission. I got you to your brother safely. Now please, for everyone's benefit, _stay there _with him_!_"_

_Vash was speechless. His eyes brimmed with tears and gazed at Wolfwood as if he'd been immensely wounded. He couldn't think of anything to respond with even as the preacher started to walk away. _

_A hand suddenly touched his shoulder, making him jump and turn around. It was Knives, who smiled at him kindly and cupped his face in his hands._

"_You don't need him, Vash," he rationalized bluntly. "You don't."_

"_But Knives, I-"_

_Tenderly, the older plant kissed his twin's lips before pulling him close to embrace him. "You have me, and I will always be here for you. He never cared about you, not like how I do." _

_Vash began shaking and sniffling quietly, causing his brother to massage the back of his head gently in order to help console him. _

"_I love you, Vash. I'll never leave you or hurt you….Do you love me?"_

_The blonde nodded._

"_Then you don't need anyone else."_

_When they at last broke away from one another, Knives held out his hand. Vash glanced from it to his twin's piercing, yet caring eyes, and after a brief period, he intertwined his fingers with Knives'. _

"_Come on, little brother. Let's go home."_

_Trailing slightly behind the white-haired plant, Vash clutched Knives' hand and together, they strayed off toward the horizon. _


	15. Giving It All Away

**A/N: **I can't guarantee that I'll have another chapter out before the end of the year, but I'll try! Some go faster than others, and this chapter certainly wasn't one of them :) Thanks for sticking with it, and welcome to the new followers! Also major thanks to Tomokonne and wolf93ee for the reviews! I love and appreciate reading your reactions/comments so much.

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><p>It was a restless night for Wolfwood. He couldn't sleep, couldn't stop thinking about everything that'd happened earlier. Thoughts of "I should've done this" or "I could've done that" flew around in his mind….<p>

And Vash's face, his moans….his body….

Sitting up on his bed, he fetched a cigarette from the carton he'd placed on the floor nearby (for easy access if sleepless nights such as this arose) and lit it. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes, blindly traced the cross etched onto the lighter, and imagined the Vash he'd known. Though their last night together had been somber due to the impending battle that awaited the outlaw, there'd been genuine, content smiles and caring words exchanged between them that attested to the plant's unyielding kindness and loving nature. Then there was the physical connection they'd shared and explored with one another, the moment when he'd felt closer to Vash than ever before or any other person in his life because it'd grown to be something more than just the need to satisfy certain urges.

He wondered if he'd ever be able to look at Vash again without remembering the deplorable event, without imagining the gunman having sex with someone else….without seeing him so helpless and broken….

It was devastating.

_Maybe I should go check on him…._

* * *

><p>For fourteen hours straight, Vash slept undisturbed, immune to the repercussions of his torture from the previous day. It was now between three and four in the morning, and before he could even get his eyelid to pry itself open, he was awake enough to experience the misery his body was feeling as if it'd hit him like a sandsteamer. He emitted a pitiful noise and wondered if it wouldn't be better to have been temporarily paralyzed in order to not endure what he currently was. The instant he made to lift his arm to help open his right eye, he immediately regretted it and let it fall back to the mattress.<p>

_Rem? Wolfy….it hurts so much. _A few tears started leaking from the corners of his eyes. _I'm so ashamed….Oh god, what have I done? _

He was dreading the moment he'd have to rise from the bed and wanted to put it off for as long as possible, but his bladder was incessantly commanding him to get up. Very slowly, little by little, he slid his legs to the edge, sat up, placed his feet flat on the floor, and stood. He cried out from the weight on his ankle and swiftly raised his foot until his toes just barely brushed the ground.

The toilet was a mere seven steps away from him at most, yet as he began limping across the room, it easily felt like thirty. He gritted his teeth, perspiration mixed with tears on his face, and he hissed and gasped with every movement his body made. Blackness was beginning to creep into his vision, his head was spinning, but he continued to push through the impending unconsciousness.

When he finally reached his destination, he was panting and barely able to remain standing. He shook uncontrollably, making it hard to keep his balance on one leg. Whimpering quietly, he untied the drawstring of his pants, lowered the waistband, and relieved himself. Once he finished, he pulled the garment up and almost immediately collapsed to the floor. Leaning to the right to alleviate the pressure on his backside, he wept from the staggering pain and unfathomable humiliation he felt.

"Wolfy," he began in a whisper, his voice hoarse, "I'm so sorry. It's my fault you're gone, my fault you had to suffer….I'm so sorry you had to bear all of that….Please forgive me. I thought I was protecting you by facing him alone. It was foolish for me to think I didn't need your help on this one. Please….please forgive me….please help me."

As he spoke the last three words, he broke down completely. His breathing was quick and irregular, making it sound as if he was hyperventilating. Tears streaked his heavily bruised cheeks, and he quaked incessantly. It'd all become too much. The realization of his fate was beginning to sink in. Knives had been snatching away his sense of self ever since they'd reunited, was stripping him of every bit of dignity he had, and soon, there'd be nothing left of his to take.

He resigned himself to his failure of not saving Wolfwood and everyone else from the malice of his brother, leaving him to believe that there was no real reason to oppose Knives anymore.

There was no real reason to be alive anymore, right?

"_Vash, take care of Knives!"_

He could think of only one way to stop his twin, and that was the Angel Arm. But in his heart, he knew he could never bring himself to unleash it on the other man. Not again. Knives had been lucky that first incident; Vash doubted he'd survive another blast. If a new plant was born out of Knives' current experiment, maybe then he'd have someone to help him reign in the sadistic twin….He highly doubted the testing would produce anything, however.

The door opened and closed, and Vash recognized the person as his brother without even stealing a glance at him. Silently, Knives knelt in front of the sobbing gunman, his expression devoid of any emotion in reaction to his twin's hysterics. For a time, all that could be heard was the blonde's shuddering breaths and occasional sniffling. His head was slightly bowed, and he acted as if he didn't realize someone was with him. In all honesty, he couldn't bring himself to look directly at the older plant due to his immense shame.

"Are you mourning for him?" Knives finally asked quietly. "Or yourself?"

Vash didn't answer. The white-haired man let a short beat pass before he suddenly back-handed the outlaw with incredible force. The younger twin was knocked to the floor with a soft whine and lay quivering where he landed as Knives stood up.

"Utterly repulsive. I can hardly look at you….Well? Do you have anything to say?"

He sighed at the lack of response, lifted Vash up by wrapping his arms around the other plant's torso, and slung him over his shoulder. After a minute of traveling, the blonde asked nervously, _"Where are we going?" _He was too weak to verbalize the question.

"_So now you decide to say something? Don't worry. It'll be just you and me."_

When they finally arrived in Knives' private bathroom, Vash leaned against the wall to support himself while his brother stepped to the bathtub. The instant water started flowing from the faucet, the gunman was struck with terror, and he immediately tried to get away as fast as possible.

"No! Nonono," he repeated almost breathlessly as he succumbed to a panic attack and hobbled into the adjacent room. "Please no. Nonono!"

Abruptly, he was stopped by being thrown face-first onto the bed, and a tremulous scream escaped his open mouth from Knives pulling and twisting his broken arm behind his back.

"You're going to tell me what happened now," the older plant said in a low, threatening tone.

Vash shook his head then closed his eye and shrieked as Knives strongly jerked on his arm and slammed a knee up against his extremely sore backside at the same time.

"I can keep doing this and more or you can tell me what you've been hiding from me."

"I can't-" Another powerful tug and more pressure from Knives' knee, making him bury his face against the mattress as he cried out.

"Who did what to you?"

"Kni-….Knives-"

Pulling his knee away only to drive it into Vash again with immense strength, he reiterated "Tell me what you've been hiding from me" a bit more loudly in order to be heard over his twin's wail.

Vash was blinded by pain. Between his weak sniffles, he started to confess. "I….They…."

"Vash."

After several uneven breaths, the blonde professed, "They drowned me, alright?!"

"Who? The two I put you in the custody of?"

The outlaw nodded, feeling despicable and guilty for giving away the information to his brother. He'd just sentenced them to death, and he couldn't feel more wretched for it.

Gradually, Knives released the other man's arm and stepped away. For a long while, Vash was still, attempting to regain some resemblance of composure. When he felt strong enough, he got up and stared at his twin with genuine concern and pleading in his gaze.

"Knives, please. Please don't harm them," he beseeched softly. "I'll do anything. Please don't kill them."

"Do you hear yourself? How ridiculous you sound? You continue your need to protect them, after all they've done to you." He closed the gap between the two of them and raised his hand, making Vash flinch as he awaited the blow, but the older plant simply rested it gently against the outlaw's cheek. "After they tortured you with water….raped you for hours…."

Vash blushed from embarrassment, yet it was practically indiscernible under the extensive bruising. "I….I don't….It's still wrong to kill them…." His tone was filled with uncertainty, unlike the times before when he'd been so resolute in the fight to never take another life.

"Vash." Though he greatly desired to dispense severe retribution on the two servants, Knives recognized this as a better opportunity to reel his brother in, to get Vash to cling to him even more. Embracing the blonde tenderly, he murmured, "If you don't want me to do anything, I won't. For you."

"Wha-….Re-….Really? You mean that?" His expression and tone conveyed total shock.

"Anything for you."

Lightly nuzzling his face against the other man's neck in an affectionate gesture, he smiled and whispered, "Thank you….Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now," Knives began as he pulled away. "Let's go."

Vash appeared nearly petrified at those last two words. He could still hear the water running from where they were in the bedroom, could practically feel the liquid in his lungs. Judging by the reaction, Knives realized he'd have to force his twin into the other room….or give him an ultimatum.

"If you let me bathe you, I'll give you something to eat."

The Humanoid Typhoon's stomach made a noise at the offer as if voicing its opinion, and it was impossible to ignore. He was absolutely starving, was ready to do practically anything for food. With tremendous trepidation, he limped towards the other doorway. Each passing second brought on more and more anxiety.

When they reached the bathroom, the sight of the half-way filled bathtub caused him to turn around with every intention to leave – to Hell with whatever meal Knives would present him with after this – but he merely ran into his brother instead.

"I don't want to," he mumbled, shaking his head.

Pushing Vash backward, Knives countered with, "You need to. I'll be in there with you."

Knowing he didn't have the energy to argue or prevent it, Vash let the older plant undress him, watched as Knives removed his clothes as well, and they waited until the tub was three-quarters the way full. Very steadily, Knives helped the gunman step in and sit down in the water before he did the same. Leaning slightly to the right, Vash trembled like a leaf. His breathing was shallow and fast, and his heart pounded rapidly. At the touch of his twin's arms sliding around his waist, he stiffened and emitted a frightened whimper as if expecting an assault to ensue any second.

Placing a kiss onto the outlaw's shoulder, Knives whispered, "It's alright. Everything's okay."

"Can we just hurry up?" Vash inquired uneasily. "Please?"

"Alright. Tip your head back."

Vash shook it instead. "No."

"I'm not going to do what they did. I'm just going to wet your hair."

It took a good minute before the younger plant obeyed, crying softly from absolute dread. Scooping up a cupful of water, Knives held one hand against his brother's brow while the other dumped the cup's contents onto the blonde locks. He repeated it four times to ensure the strands were thoroughly soaked.

"You can relax now."

Vash stared at the water rippling in front of him like it was about to form into a giant wave and overtake him, yet the sensation of Knives' fingers massaging his scalp and the fresh scent of the shampoo did calm him down ever so slightly. Dried semen and spit were here and there in his hair, prompting Knives to comment, "Disgusting, Vash. Disgusting human cum all over you. How was it? Did you enjoy it? Did you feel their love for you?" He chuckled, and Vash felt vastly degraded. "Imagine what Wolfy or Rem would think if they knew you let thirty-three men fuck you like that, like an animal."

He knew he struck the right chord by the way Vash shuddered and began sobbing quietly. Grinning devilishly, he continued, "I wouldn't be surprised if Wolfwood couldn't stomach touching you again if he was still alive."

The gunman hung his head, wanting desperately to curl up into a ball and hug himself in an attempt at some sort of comfort.

"Despite how tainted you are, I'm still here for you and love you."

He didn't bother telling Vash to lean back in order to rinse his hair. Permitting his twin to keep his head bowed, he washed out the shampoo with no other words. The damage he'd dealt was massive; there wasn't need for anymore insults.

If Vash the Stampede wasn't entirely shattered by now, he would be soon.

Rubbing a bar of soap onto a damp washcloth, Knives continued with bathing his brother. He scrubbed the man's extremely bruised skin, applying more pressure whenever he came across traces of blood and streaks of white. It seemed as the time passed, Vash had become more preoccupied with his emotions and shame than being afraid of what the water might do to him. The older plant could practically taste the other man's despair; it was better than he'd ever imagined.

Once he finished, he set aside the washcloth, kissed along the lengthy scar he'd given Vash until he reached the middle of his back, and then embraced his twin from behind. For a time, they remained that way, a picture of innocence and affection. The tenderness in which Knives was now displaying made the younger plant feel more at ease and valued enough to want to confide in him; his heart was bursting with the need to be open and have a personal connection with someone. In this moment he felt as if his brother could be that person, just like he'd been so many years ago.

"I really loved him, Knives," he forced out between his uneven breaths.

Whereas he'd usually punish Vash for saying such a thing – or rather _any_thing that involved Wolfwood – Knives chose to continue his perpetual manipulation of the other man. After all, it'd only been a matter of weeks and Vash had gone from completely opposing him to being almost putty in his hands. "I know you did, Vash," he replied gently, accompanying the words with light kisses on the outlaw's shoulder and neck.

"He was my friend….It's my fault! Everything!"

"Shhh…."

"Why did you have to do it? Why did you have to kill him? Why do you have to kill everyone?!" Though he asked the questions passionately, it wasn't in an accusing or disapproving tone; he asked them in a manner of simply wanting to know, to try and understand.

"Vash….I had to, and I have to. We've been through this many times. I'm making you the Eden you've always dreamed of. We'll have each other, release our siblings….this planet will forever be ours. I'm giving you what you want." He slid his hands downward to inch along the inside of his brother's thighs, eliciting a tiny sound of what he considered arousal from Vash.

"And what….what do you want?"

At the touch of Knives' mouth lightly suckling on his neck, he shivered and believed he had his answer. It made him even more depressed. It wasn't as if he didn't love his twin, far from it, in fact; he truly did love Knives, yet the older plant made it clear they were not equals anymore. Knives had asserted himself over the outlaw in more ways than one time and time again, consistently emasculated him, and had succeeded in proving himself as the dominant alpha male out of the two of them. Whatever he wanted, Vash realized he'd have to give it to him. Until someone came to save him, there was nothing the blonde could do, for himself or for anyone else.

"I want," Knives breathed as he grinded himself against the other plant and moved a hand up to Vash's chest, "you to be happy. I want _you_. Give yourself to me, Vash."

The gunman didn't know what that meant, had no clue what else Knives could possibly want from him. Hadn't he already given _every_thing up, emotionally and physically? And now that Wolfwood was very much confirmed dead, there was no one else to turn to or share himself with other than his brother.

Knives abruptly stood up, hooked his arms under Vash's, and lifted him out of the water. Even without an explanation, Vash knew what was coming. He shook his head, dug his right heel into the floor, but nothing slowed his captor down. Knives displayed no indication he cared that the two of them were soaking wet as he tossed the outlaw onto the bed. Vash was too exhausted to move from where he landed on the mattress, though he continued to protest with a faint "no" or "don't" multiple times. At the touch of Knives' hands fondling and caressing him all over and the look of sheer lust in the blue eyes, he was immediately reminded of the unspeakable trauma he'd lived through the previous day; it was as if it'd never ended.

Lips hungrily attacked his own, teeth viciously bit them until he kissed back, and eventually Knives moved his mouth down to Vash's neck. The younger plant could do nothing to get away, and if this was going to go as far as he believed it would, he knew he was in for a rather excruciating experience.

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><p>It'd been an unsettling surprise when Vash was nowhere to be found; Wolfwood had checked and double-checked the room. Nothing. The first thought that came to mind was that his friend had been taken away again to be repeatedly violated, yet when he went to see if that was the case, all the lights in the commons area were off and no one was there.<p>

_Hope you're okay, Spikey, _he thought, more so trying to convince himself that the other man was alright.

Instead of returning to his quarters, he wandered aimlessly for a time throughout the many corridors. It was easy to wind up lost, yet he wasn't worried about it; he was nearly certain he wouldn't be getting any sleep anyway.

Fifteen minutes into his destination-less adventure, muffled cries and pained noises mixed with low grunting reached his ears, causing his heart to drop upon realizing he knew who those sounds belonged to.

"Spikey!" he gasped.

He ran towards the distressed noises, and once he reached the closed door that hid the non-consensual, incestuous act, he pressed himself against it in order to hear better. It was obvious what was happening without even being able to see, and he inwardly fought with himself on what to do. The breathless words he heard next made him want to burst in and strangle Knives.

"Stop! Stop!….Knives….Please stop….It hurts….It hurts, please…."

There was a loud _slap, _followed by a wounded yelp, and Wolfwood about snapped from the rage flowing inside him.

_That heartless bastard. I'll kill him. I swear I'll kill him. He'll never be able to hurt you or anyone else again, Vash. He may be your brother, but you _have _to see that he's not worth protecting or trying to save anymore!_

With no weapon on him, the priest knew he'd be easily overpowered by the homicidal plant if he chose to burst in and confront him. Even if he _did _have a weapon, Knives was still far too deadly and, according to Livio, nigh impossible to kill. Only when Luida's resistance force had gathered its defenses and decided when the opportune time to move in would be – only then could he get his chance.

There were no more weak protests from Vash that he could hear, yet the pained and pleasurable moans cut him just as badly. How much longer was Knives holding out for?

_For one so obsessed with his brother and claiming to love him, he sure treats him like shit….If he truly believes plants are the superior race, why does he treat Vash as callously as he does humans? _

It was five more minutes before Knives was done. Both he and Vash were breathing heavily, still dripping wet from water and now sweat, and while he felt satisfied from slaking his thirst for dominance and lust, Vash was in terrible pain. He closed his eye as Knives' tongue slid along his cheek to lick up the traces of his tears. Fingers trailed down the length of his neck until Knives at last pulled away and got up to clean himself in the bathroom.

Once he finished moments later, Knives returned to the bedroom and surveyed his motionless twin. There'd been traces of blood on his cock when he withdrew from the other man's body, and after a minute, he rolled Vash onto his side and sighed like he was disappointed from discovering red spotting on the sheets too.

"I don't know if I should bother dressing you," he stated frankly. "I'll wait a day; hopefully you'll be done bleeding by then."

Though he dearly wanted to be clothed – to lessen the feeling of vulnerability and mortification – Vash didn't speak up.

"Come on."

The outlaw might as well have been unconscious, for he was entirely limp and unresponsive as his brother draped him over one shoulder to carry him.

At the sound of footsteps approaching the entrance, Wolfwood darted down the hallway and into an adjacent one, peering around the corner just as the door opened. The twins were headed in the opposite direction from the priest, and at the sight of Vash's naked form dangling from Knives' shoulder, Wolfwood nearly went to him just to hold his hand consolingly for a second.

"_Vash? Spikey?"_

No answer. He was beginning to wonder if he was going crazy, if the times he'd heard Vash say his name were anything more than sad attempts to comfort himself by hearing his friend speak his name again.

He let a few minutes tick by before he ventured after them, assuming Knives was returning the outlaw to his prison-like cell.

* * *

><p>Landing on the dingy bed with a small whine, Vash dared to reach out to his brother who'd dropped him onto the mattress, though hurriedly stopped due to the pain it brought on.<p>

"Knives?" he questioned timidly, making the other man pause at the door to stare at him. "Can you fix my arm? My ankle?"

Knives smirked. "No. I think you can handle a couple of days with them the way they are."

"Knives wait!"

"What?"

"I'm….I'm hungry. And cold."

"You have a blanket there. As for food, you'll have it sometime."

With a light chuckle, he left, shutting the door loudly behind him. The blanket he referred to was nothing more than a thin, holey bed sheet, which Vash struggled to cover himself with by gripping it with his toes and laying as much of it as he could over his nude body. By the time he was done, having exhausted himself even more than he already was due to the endeavor, the gunman had at least concealed his left half from the waist down.

Nicholas waited until Knives was long gone before venturing to the door. Though he reached out to turn the knob, he suddenly stopped and sighed.

"What am I doing here?" he mumbled despondently. "I can't help him. I can't say anything to him. Just looking at him hurts."

Gradually, he retracted his hand, stood in place for a time, and then began walking back to his room. There was nothing he could do for his friend, and it ate away at him like a disease – the guilt, the sadness, the anger.

As he laid down to try and sleep once more, he still couldn't get Vash out of his mind.

"…_.I want to remember how you feel….inside me….I don't ever want to forget."_

He rubbed his face tiredly, pondering those words and that last night with the infamous Humanoid Typhoon. Was there any chance Vash remembered him that way now, considering the plant had had sex with a multitude of men since then? Judging by the passionate display he put on after hearing how the preacher was eliminated, Vash at least still had a special place in his heart for him….Maybe the outlaw remembered some of that night….Maybe it was a memory that gave him solace whenever he was alone and free from the abhorrent treatment he'd been subjected to since being taken hostage….Maybe….

* * *

><p>"Nick….Nick, get up."<p>

The priest's eyelids flew open, and he was instantly greeted by Livio looking down at him with grave concern. When had he fallen asleep?

"What? What is it?" he asked.

"We're at Inepril."

Wolfwood didn't know if that was supposed to be of significance or not. "Alright?"

"Jesus, Nick," Livio said almost exasperatedly. "They're gearing up to take the city."

It was a matter of seconds before the words sank in. The preacher's eyes widened, and he bolted upright. "We have to save everyone we can. Get them out of sight and anywhere away from the chaos so they can make a run for it into the desert. Whenever I hear from Luida, I'll tell her they need to come rescue them; we should be far enough away by then."

Livio nodded. "Load up, but don't shoot any of Knives' men unless you absolutely have to. He'll notice he's down a person, and then it'll be a hunt to find out who turned traitor."

Livio had one of his two signature firearms in hand and another pistol tucked into a holster strapped around his torso, while Wolfwood had two guns secured at his thighs. Once they congregated with everyone else on the lowering platform and it started to descend, Wolfwood felt sick to his stomach. He wasn't a stranger to slaughter – he just hadn't been a witness to massacres of unsuspecting, innocent people. The ones he'd dealt death to had deserved it. This situation was different. And Vash _had_ rubbed off on him with his ideals, whether he liked it or not….

As soon as they touched the ground, however, it wasn't sheer pandemonium like he imagined it would be. Rather, the plant-worshipping army stayed put, causing Wolfwood and Livio to glance at one another in confusion. A decent amount of townspeople had begun congregating near the hovering Ark with frightened expressions on their faces, but curiosity urged them forward. When Knives strode off the platform and advanced toward the gathered group, his army followed, including a still befuddled Livio and Wolfwood.

At the sight of Knives, people started talking and whispering amongst themselves, their eyes alight with disbelief, sadness, and anger. Hearing the hushed words, Knives grinned in amusement.

"Vash, how could you?"

"What have you done?!"

"Why?!"

"What's happened to you?"

"It can't be him; Vash wouldn't do things like that!"

The comments were like fuel to a fire. Knives knew the history his brother had with the town, was aware that the Humanoid Typhoon had not only relinquished his claim to the Nebraska family's bounty by letting the residents cash in on it, but saved them all as well from one of the plants exploding – it was going to be tremendously satisfying to humiliate his twin in front of those who lauded and respected him so much. It was also going to be rewarding to witness the reactions they'd have at the sight of their hero.

"I'm sorry to have to disappoint you all," he announced, making the crowd go silent, "but I am _not_ your dear, sweet Vash." He chuckled at the looks of total surprise. "I'm here to take what doesn't belong to you. Though before I do…." He made a gesture as if motioning someone forward, and Wolfwood was horrified to see one of the men walk to Knives and fling Vash onto the ground in front of him like a slain animal carcass. "Here he is, Vash the Stampede, your pathetic hero."

There were gasps and exclamations of shock as the crowd gazed upon the man that had once done so much to protect and help them. Some wondered if he was dead, for he didn't move whatsoever; he remained in the position he'd landed in, lying on his right side in a sprawled out heap. The sight of his marred and bruised body was jarring, and the extent to which his face was beaten made him difficult to recognize.

"Feel free to reacquaint yourselves with him, catch up on old news. We'll be taking our leave shortly. If you value your lives, I recommend you don't get in our way."

Giving a nod, Knives' men split up – half of them looting and setting the town on fire, the other half moving to work on prepping the plants for removal and air-lifting into the Ark. No one moved to oppose them, and those who hadn't gathered outside when the Ark had initially arrived did so now as their homes and businesses were set ablaze.

"This is all his fault!"

"You have to do something, Vash!"

Others shouted similar accusations and commands; they mixed in with the sounds of breaking glass, of crackling flames and the heat radiating from them – it all tore Vash's heart. He tried propping himself up on his elbow in hopes to maybe be able to get to his feet, though quickly abandoned the effort due to the pain.

_I should do something….I have to help….But I'm so tired….I'm sorry…._

He brought his knees closer to his chest, attempting to not only pacify himself, but shield his nakedness as well. In addition to feeling utterly disgraced, an enormous amount of anxiety flowed through him at being surrounded by people. He stared at the ground, not daring to make eye contact with anyone because of his intense mortification and guilt.

Unexpectedly, a little boy stepped out from the group and began walking slowly towards the outlaw.

"Don't! Get back here!"

The boy disregarded his mother's order and continued on until he was in front of the gunman. He shrugged off his small vest, gently laid it on top of Vash to conceal him from just below the navel to upper thigh, and said quietly, "It's okay, Vash. You don't have to do anything."

The statements and kind, innocent action made the plant's eyes flood with tears. Turning his head slightly upward in order to see the child, he smiled and voiced feebly, "Thank you, Tonis."

The kid's face lit up happily. "You remember me!"

"Of course; I'd never forget you, or anyone here."

"We always wondered when you'd come back to visit. We missed you an awful lot."

"I missed you all too. I'm sorry…."

"There is nothing you should be sorry for, Vash," a woman stated tenderly as she approached the two of them, untying her apron and draping it over the outlaw's torso once she was beside him. "Tonis is right; you don't need to do anything. You've already done so much for this town. We'll be okay."

Numerous people nodded and murmured their agreements, and suddenly, Vash felt as if he was no longer surrounded by people who were going to assault him at any given moment, but by family. In a matter of minutes, Vash was covered by someone's coat, and others came forward to offer their water canteens. With the help of someone lifting and cradling his head, he drank every last drop eagerly. The cool liquid was a welcomed refreshment and soothed his sore, parched throat.

"He can't go back with that monster. Look at what they've done to him!"

"We have to keep him here."

"We have to help him!"

Despite knowing there was no way Knives would abandon him in Inepril, it didn't stop him from getting hopeful at the prospect.

As if on cue, Knives returned with a handful of his men and grew furious at the sight of his brother and those tending to him. This wasn't what he'd planned. The humans were supposed to either turn on Vash or be so repulsed by him that they'd want nothing to do with him altogether – whichever route they chose, it didn't matter; the two options were both acceptable – but they were _not _supposed to help him. Upon spotting Knives, a number of townspeople formed a barrier in front of the gunman, further riling the white-haired plant.

"Move along," he ordered.

No one stirred.

Within seconds, Knives' entire arm morphed into a sharp, curved, silver blade. The transformation caused many to gasp and step back. "Move. Along," he repeated.

Gradually, the group dispersed with immense reluctance. Vash silently panicked and loudly cried out as someone took hold of his forearm and began dragging him back to the platform. He looked longingly at the crowd one last time before he and Knives' army were being elevated into the Ark.

Closing his eye, he swallowed the knot in his throat and fought off the urge to weep. Not only could he not save the city, he couldn't be saved by the people of it either. The humans were doomed to turn on one another and perish; he was left to wallow in subservience to his controlling, oppressive brother, continuing to live through whatever brutal treatment his twin delighted in dishing out.

He expected to be returned to his room, but Knives instead hauled him to The Hole. As the metal grate closed, the blonde stared imploringly at his brother, which simply made Knives shake his head and grin.

"_Don't look at me like that, Vash. It's your fault. You're the one who cares so much about humans and their well-being, yet you didn't do a thing to stop me. Do you really think they have any concern for you? Did you really believe they were being sincere? They only sympathized for you because they wanted something from you – for you to save them again. Humans are greedy, scheming parasites. I know you know this; it's time you admitted it and together, we can do something about it."_

The words consumed Vash's mind like a song on repeat, even long after Knives had left him alone. He was no longer certain about what to believe, how to feel, or who to trust. His brother had valid points, but so did Rem. Which set of beliefs was right? Why should he strain himself to protect humans, _especially _those who had done unspeakable things to him, when no one cared to do the same for him? There'd really only been three people who ever showed interest in watching over him – Rem, Wolfwood, and Knives. Two were gone forever; the latter was here with him forever. Was it time to accept that? Is that what Knives meant when he told him to give himself to him? Did he have to surrender every bit of his heart and mind to his twin in order to make Knives happy? And if Knives was happy, would that put an end to the physical torture and emotional anguish, or at least have it happen less often?

He heard the door open and held his breath. What was it going to be this time? He didn't think his skin could bruise more than it already was if they were coming to beat him, but he believed he could probably handle it. The other possibility – of being molested and repeatedly forced upon again – made him tremble and grow nauseous. Perhaps they had a new method to torment him?

It was only one person who came to stand next to The Hole and stare down at him, yet it was currently the one person other than Knives that could bring him to the point of anger, grief, and wariness all at once.

Now that he was close enough, Wolfwood was glad to see his friend had been cleaned up a bit. The sight still broke his heart, and the coldness in Vash's eye wasn't helping. It was going to be hard, keeping himself from spilling the truth, but his need to be near the gunman was overwhelming. He stumbled over words in his mind as he tried thinking of what to say, though Vash saved him the trouble and suddenly spoke first.

"Come to gloat more?" he asked quietly, his voice shaky and with a trace of venom in it.

The priest remained silent, not quite sure how to answer. He noted the absence of the man's earring and the stitches that'd taken its place – it seemed to him like Knives was stealing and smothering every little thing that made up Vash the Stampede.

A hint of sorrow replaced the malice in Vash's tone with his next statement. "He was my friend."

Wolfwood nodded dumbly. "I know….I'm sorry."

Tears clouded his vision, and two droplets raced down to his blonde hair. "No….you're not," he said sadly.

_Ouch, _Nicholas thought and sighed. He removed a cigarette from his pocket along with his lighter, and the moment Vash saw it, he wanted to snatch it away and slap him.

"Wasn't enough to take his life?" he questioned harshly.

"Hm?"

"Pretty low to steal from a dead man."

The accusation finally clicked, and Nicholas felt like an idiot for not realizing the object would no doubt upset the other man. "Um….No, I guess it wasn't enough. I took a liking to this and needed one."

As much as he tried to retain a stoic expression, it was plainly evident how distraught Vash was. "Why are you here? What do you want from me?" The tears began streaking his face more frequently. "You….And them….My brother….What else do you want to take from me?"

_That _hit Wolfwood hard; he felt like someone punched him in the gut. Opening his mouth to reply, he abruptly turned around from finding he really had nothing to say.

After a long pause, he at last asked, "Did you actually love him?" Finding his composure, he faced Vash once more and studied his expression.

The blonde smiled slightly. "Does it matter?"

He took in the words then nodded. "Guess not."

What else was there to talk about? Nicholas didn't know. He didn't have any good, valid reason to give Vash for why he so dearly desired to stay there with him. In the plant's eyes, he was a heartless, murderous servant for Knives.

"Do you have any food?"

The priest shook his head slightly as if clearing his thoughts and waking from a dream. "What?"

"Do you have any food with you?"

"Uh…." Fishing around in his pockets, he discovered a piece of hard candy. "This is all I have. You want it?"

Vash nodded.

Unwrapping the tiny offering, Wolfwood knelt down and, after remembering the outlaw's arm was broken, held the candy between one of the open squares of the metal grate. A strange feeling suddenly overwhelmed Vash as he stared up at the other man. Since he was now really looking at him for the first time, the gunman noticed how similar "John" was to Wolfwood in appearance. With the outstretched arm, hand gifting him the treat, his mind instantly returned to that first day he'd met the preacher and how Wolfwood had shared with those two hungry little kids.

_It can't be,_ he thought, hopeful and despondent all at the same time. _He's dead….And this man killed him….It's impossible….But there's something….Wolfy?_

He kept himself from asking, afraid that it might earn him further suffering because if this person really _did _kill the preacher, he certainly wouldn't appreciate being compared to him.

Nicholas dropped the candy, and Vash caught it between his teeth before letting it fall into his mouth. It was strawberry flavored, and due to how famished he was, it tasted exquisite. He knew it'd probably be wiser to savor it slowly, but his instincts seemed to order him to devour it as fast as possible. He paused to say, "Thank you" before he went about sucking eagerly on the candy once more.

Giving the gunman a farewell nod, Nicholas started for the door; his feet seemed to weigh a hundred pounds each. Every time he left Vash, he felt like he was neglecting him and sentencing the plant to never-ending torment. Every time he left, a small chunk of his heart broke.

Just before he shut the door behind him, he was barely able to hear the blonde murmur softly, "Wolfy, I miss you….Why does he have to remind me of you?"

_It's me, needle-noggin. I'm right here, and believe it or not, I miss you too. I miss you annoying me and always being there for me….Lord, be with him….Amen._

Exhaling a deep breath, Wolfwood walked away, ignoring everything inside of him that told him to stay.


	16. Come Away With Me

**A/N: **Surprise! Was able to get one more chapter out before the end of the year. I guess it could be my Christmas gift to all of you :) I wish you all happy holidays and happy new year (since I probably won't update again before the year is out)!

Many thanks to wolf-akuma & Eiri and Kurama lover07 for the reviews/feedback! Really perks my spirits up and makes me smile; I'm really grateful.

And now a chapter in which we see that Knives might actually have a heart...

* * *

><p>"Nicholas."<p>

"Yes?"

"Can you give a status update?"

"The city of Inepril went up in flames. No one was killed, I don't think, but I hope you can detour there and rescue them. Take them to a nearby city."

"Yes, absolutely. We'll set course for it right away. Have you had an opportunity to investigate the Ark?"

"No. We can maybe try to tonight. Listen, I believe Livio and I can handle the army by ourselves for the most part. It's Knives who will be the real problem."

"How so?"

"I don't see any of our weapons or yours being able to damage him whatsoever. The only thing that might have a chance is…."

"Is?"

Wolfwood sighed. "Vash."

There was a pause. "Alright," Luida finally said. "Instead of you and Livio focusing on Knives' men, why don't you work on getting Vash alone with him?"

"The two of them already spend plenty of time alone."

"Then what's the problem?"

"You're not hearing me – Knives has Vash alone a lot."

Another pause. When Luida spoke again, her tone was somber. "Oh, I see….How bad is he?"

"Let's just say the sooner you get here, the better. By this point, I'm not sure if we were there with him to help that he would ever turn on Knives with the Angel Arm. His mind and spirit have been pretty well manipulated and wrecked."

"We'll um….we'll do what we can. We've been working on evacuating different cities and recruiting more people. Do you know if Knives has plans to attack December yet?"

"I have no idea."

"Alright. That's been the place we've urged people to flee to for safety, so I just pray he doesn't set his sights on it until last."

"I'll let you know if I hear anything."

"Please do. If there's nothing else, I'll leave you for now. Those two girls, Millie and Meryl have been frequently asking about Vash….What should I tell them?"

"Tell them….he's alive, and leave it at that."

"Alright, I will. Continue to be safe."

"Thank you."

"Goodbye for now."

"Goodbye."

Wolfwood stretched out on his bed, inhaled deeply, and tried erasing his mind of everything for the time being. He closed his eyes and kept them closed despite hearing someone enter the room.

"You going to sleep?" Livio asked.

"Hopefully."

"Talk to Luida yet?"

"Yeah, they'll take care of them."

"Lunch is going on right now. Want me to bring you something?"

"No, I'll be fine. Thanks."

Once he was alone again, he focused on his breathing and counting. If anything, he just needed a break; sleep would be an added bonus.

* * *

><p>At the sound of footsteps, Vash sleepily opened his eye (his right one was still swollen shut) and became ill at the sight of three of Knives' men. He recognized two of them – Daniel and Robert – and committed the other person's name to memory once Robert said it.<p>

"Ben, go ahead and get him out."

The grate was opened, and Vash gave a weak cry as he was pulled out by his arm.

"Get up."

Gathering every bit of strength he possessed, the Humanoid Typhoon strained himself to obey the command, yet it was very evident he was pushing his body to the brink of total collapse. After just mere seconds, the three servants were annoyed by the amount of time it was taking. Dealing a powerful kick to Vash's stomach, Daniel repeated, "Get up! We don't have all day."

Again, Vash attempted to stand and failed.

"Christ. Pathetic."

The collar that Knives had previously taken off of Vash while he'd been asleep the night before was once again latched around the plant's neck, and Ben tugged on the attached leash to yank the blonde upward and ultimately, on to his feet.

"Let's go."

The three of them were moving way too fast; Vash did his best to follow their pace, but soon fell forward onto the ground. He made numerous choking noises as he was dragged along.

Being witness to most of the scene, Livio finally stepped into the room and blocked them from leaving.

"Hey, is there a problem?" he asked casually.

The servants stopped, and Robert explained, "Nah. Master sent us to come get this pathetic whore; he's just being difficult."

"I'll handle him from here if you all want to go ahead."

"Ah, I get ya. Didn't get your chance yesterday? Yeah, go right ahead. He feels like a tight little virgin girl. You won't be disappointed."

The three laughed, and Livio faked a chuckle until they were gone. Waiting a moment to ensure they wouldn't return for some reason, he knelt beside Vash, who shook his head and looked as if he was silently begging for Livio not to do what the others believed he was about to.

"I won't," Livio assured.

The outlaw didn't think he'd heard the words correctly. "What?"

"I won't."

Vash's expression morphed to one of skepticism. "Why?"

"Not in the mood, I guess."

"You helped me yesterday, you're not doing anything to me now – why? I don't understand."

Livio fumbled in his mind for an explanation. He hadn't expected the gunman to be coherent enough to recognize he was treating him with decency. "Well….Wolfwood made me promise something as he was dying." He inwardly cringed at how stupid that sounded, but the glint of anticipation and sorrow in Vash's eye let him know the plant was accepting it as truth. "He asked me to try and look out for you. I figured why not? I'll indulge him. So I promised I would. And I'm not one to go back on my word."

Vash swallowed, contemplated what to reply with, but merely nodded instead.

"Keep it to yourself, alright?"

Again, he nodded.

Being careful not to cause the outlaw too much discomfort, Livio lifted him up to carry in his arms and started for the cafeteria. Letting out a deep sigh, Vash nestled his head against the man's chest. After all he'd been through that proved the worst in others, he couldn't help but feel like _this_ man could be trusted. He'd never forgive the assassin for being an accomplice in Wolfwood's murder, yet maybe now he didn't have to worry about him harming him too.

When they arrived just outside of the populated room, Livio lowered Vash to stand, explaining Knives wouldn't be able to accuse him of giving the outlaw special treatment and punish them both for it.

"After you," he stated, picking up the end of the leash in his hand. "Take your time. No rush."

Turning his focus to the floor, Vash unhurriedly started making his way to Knives' throne. Just after the first few steps, he was already shaking and breathing harder. The brief instances in which his left ankle had to support him as he limped along felt like eternities. At the sight of him, many of the servants laughed and pointed, along with shouting obscene things. When he was little more than halfway to his destination, his legs gave out, providing the crowd with even more entertainment.

"Come on, Vash," Livio coaxed. "We're almost there."

He didn't want to resort to hauling the gunman by the leash, but he didn't want Knives getting suspicious at his mild treatment of Vash either. His mind was made up for him once the plant began shuffling along on his bruised knees.

_Poor guy, _Livio mused sadly. _Maybe I _should _just lug him the rest of the way._

That idea didn't last long either, for Knives stood to approach his twin, grabbed a handful of his blonde locks, and pulled. Instinctively, Vash went to pry the man's fingers away, but emitted a pitiful whine from the movement of his arm and the pain from being dragged by his hair. His right leg scrambled to help push him along to take off some of the strain from his scalp, though it wasn't of much use, and watching him struggle was simply another amusing spectacle for the group present. Since it was obvious he was no longer needed, Livio shrugged helplessly and went to get in line for food.

Returning to his throne, Knives released his hold on his twin's golden locks and settled into the large chair. Upon noticing the outlaw wasn't moving, he commanded, "Sit up, Vash. At least look somewhat presentable."

Even though his energy was almost non-existent, Vash somehow managed to raise himself into a seated position with his right leg tucked under his outstretched left; the fact that he couldn't sit straight up made the men nearly fall on the floor laughing in addition to hurling lewd and explicit comments at him. He merely hung his head and tried concentrating on something else.

"Vash."

He kept his head down as if he hadn't heard his name.

Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Knives powerfully smacked the back of his brother's skull, eliciting a surprised and hurt noise to sound from the gunman. "Vash."

Gradually, he turned to stare apprehensively at his twin and very softly replied, "Yes?"

"Do you want something to eat?"

Instantly, Vash's expression changed to one of excitement and glee. He nodded eagerly, anxiously waiting for the offering. When Knives presented him with a finger covered in mashed potatoes, his enthusiasm transformed into reluctance.

"Don't you want it?" Knives taunted.

Vash felt crushed; he knew what his brother was getting at. He could decline, maintain a bit of dignity (if he even had any left – he wasn't sure), but the emptiness in his stomach pushed him to acquiesce. Leaning forward, he enclosed his lips around Knives' finger and licked it clean. The older plant grinned, scooped more potatoes onto his index finger, and slid it into Vash's mouth.

"Good boy," he cooed, patting the top of the man's head and then petted his hair.

He was getting hard at the sensation of his brother's tongue swirling around his prodding digit and nearly moaned in pleasure at Vash lightly sucking on it.

"More?"

The blonde nodded, yet it was evident his delight was gone. After three more finger scoops, Knives set his plate down on the floor in front of the Humanoid Typhoon, knowing full well that Vash wouldn't be able to use his arm to feed himself.

"You can have the rest."

There was just a sliver of steak left, some asparagus, and half a roll. For a time Vash simply stared at the dish, debating whether or not to give Knives the satisfaction of making him feel like an animal. But his stomach….

Letting out a defeated sigh, he bent down and started eating what remained. He discovered fairly quickly it really wasn't that much as he neared the last few bites. When he finished, he shyly gazed at Knives and asked quietly, "Can I….Can I have some more?"

Knives delicately caressed the outlaw's face and said, "If you're still hungry, you'll have to go ask _them_."

Vash's heart seemed to stop and the color drained from his complexion.

Noticing the intense fear welling in the man's eye, Knives chuckled. "It's the only way. I don't have anything left. You'll have to see if one of them will give you some scraps. Of course, you may have to do or give something in return."

The younger plant began visibly trembling as panic filled him. There was no way he could handle a repeat of the day before. Whether it was one of them or all of them wanting a turn with him again, he wouldn't be able to endure it; Knives had already proven just hours ago how badly his body had been wounded by them and how far he still needed to go in order to heal.

He didn't know when he started crying, only realized it once Knives began wiping away the tears with his thumb.

"Vash, stop that. If you're really that scared and hungry, I'll get you more later, alright?"

Giving a nod, the blonde whispered, "Okay."

"Come here."

Knives patted his knee, and Vash inched closer in order to rest his head atop his brother's thigh. Fingers gently ran through his hair, helping him calm down and eventually making him drowsy enough to fall asleep.

_He's almost there. Shouldn't be much longer, _Knives reflected as he surveyed his twin. _I think he's finally seeing things my way. It'll be nice to at last have him as my ally. With his expertise in combat, it won't take long at all to wipe out the rest of the human filth once he joins me. Our pistols will be reunited in doing what I always intended them for – no more of this love and peace nonsense; he'll be shooting to kill._

"Vash….Vash…."

Carefully, he lifted the outlaw up and into his arms as he stood. Vash mumbled incoherently for a few seconds before settling down into sleep again. Instead of returning him to The Hole, Knives carried him to his own room and laid him on the bed. The blonde didn't stir as he was covered with the thin sheet, yet his lips did quirk upward in a tiny smile while Knives kissed his forehead and stroked his cheek.

"Sleep tight, dear brother," Knives whispered. "I love you."

It was difficult to understand and hear, but the older plant believed Vash responded with, "Love you too."

Trailing his fingers down the man's battered face, Knives decided on waiting until Vash woke up to heal the broken bones; he wanted to let him linger in anguish a bit longer, but his affection was getting the best of him.

He smirked. As much as he desired to fully claim and overpower the Humanoid Typhoon, there were still things that made him weak to his brother.

_You're lucky I love you so much, Vash…._

* * *

><p>"Ow….Ow!...Stop! Just stop!"<p>

Knives let go of the outlaw's arm and waited. The treatment was apparently quite more agonizing than how it'd been when he'd repaired Vash's rib and cheekbone. With his eyes squeezed shut, the younger plant lay panting and struggled to keep his vocalized pain to a minimum, though an occasional hiss or groan sounded from him.

After a time he at last breathed, "Okay. I'm ready."

Placing his hands once more onto Vash's impaired limb, Knives resumed the process. Vash clenched his jaw and rocked from side to side, trying to remind himself the excruciating sensations were only temporary….It wasn't doing much to assuage him.

"Almost there," Knives assured.

Seemingly fifteen minutes later (when in actuality it was a meager fifty seconds), Vash's shattered bones were fixed together like there'd never been a hammer taken to them in the first place. As Knives turned his attention to the man's ankle, extreme discomfort engulfed it, yet it wasn't nearly as bad.

Rubbing the outlaw's foot, Knives at last announced, "All done. Feel better?"

Though the areas were tender and throbbing, it definitely was an improvement. "Yes, thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Knives?"

"Hm?"

"I'm….I'm sorry for yesterday. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine."

"You won't….You won't let them do that again, will you?"

"I don't know. I hope I won't have to." The alarm written on his twin's countenance made him laugh. "I'll be back with food. Get some rest."

True to his word, Knives returned thirty minutes later with two salmon sandwiches, a salad, an apple, and the Humanoid Typhoon's favorite: two plain donuts. Vash sat up and not a second after the dishes were placed onto the bed, he commenced devouring the meal. Everything tasted beyond amazing; his taste buds were sent into a heavenly frenzy. At no point was his mouth empty; his throat was having a difficult time keeping up with swallowing as he continuously shoved more and more in.

He saved the best for last – the beautiful donuts.

Just like the previous time, he felt nauseous, along with a mix of being full and still hungry. Regardless, he was overjoyed with the meal and now that he was finished, he looked up to sincerely thank his brother, but found he was alone. With a smile, he set the plates and bowl onto the floor, laid back down, and sighed contently.

Holding the sheet close to him, he yawned, curled up on his side, and closed his eyes.

_He does care about me….Maybe he's not as bad as I keep making him out to be….Maybe it won't be so bad, either, to be with him. I know Wolfwood wouldn't see it that way, but….He's all I have left. And there's nowhere else to go….I can't go home. My family, my friends – they may not even be alive anymore; I couldn't bear to face them anyway after what I've done….Maybe….He really _is _all I need…._

* * *

><p>"Good, you're awake," Livio greeted as he sat on his bunk across from Wolfwood. "Sleep at all?"<p>

"A little. How's-"

"He's fine."

The priest smirked. "Well alright. Any news where we're headed next?"

"I think back to base to drop off the cargo. This thing can only carry three plants at most. We filled up with Inepril."

Briefly, the idea of stealing Vash away, making a break for it into the open desert, crossed Wolfwood's mind, but he knew they wouldn't get far before Knives would find them, most likely execute him, and then turn his sights on creating an even worse Hell for Vash. No, such a plan was out of the question.

"Least it's not December," he sighed. "Luida has been using it as a place of refuge for everyone since it's the last of the Great Cities left."

"Hopefully Vash doesn't get to it like all the others." The look on his partner's face caused Livio to raise his hands as if surrendering. "Alright. I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. What else did she have to say?"

"Not much. They're still gathering troops and weapons. I don't see firepower taking Knives down, though. I honestly believe the only thing capable of such a feat is Vash."

"Did you tell her that?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"She said we should focus on getting Vash that opportunity."

"I think we can do that." Noting the less than confident expression, he added, "You don't?"

"He's been brainwashed. Made to believe he only has Knives left. He's a slave to him, just like everyone else….I feel Knives has crippled him to the point where he won't resist him anymore. It's understandable, after all that bastard has put him through."

"Hm….You may be right. But we should still try."

Turning his gaze to the floor, Wolfwood silently agreed; Vash remained the planet's only hope for saving the human race. And maybe, just maybe, he could reveal himself at last to his imprisoned friend and give him a reason to keep fighting, to show the outlaw he was never, and never would be, alone.

* * *

><p>Without a clock in the room, it was impossible to know the exact hour; however, the small, barred window near the upper left corner of the room served as a substitute by letting in slivers of sunlight or moonlight depending on the time of day.<p>

Tonight, he was restless. He couldn't bear to be alone, yet didn't want anyone near him at the same time. Now that he had some energy and his limbs were mended, the urge to get up and move drove him to try the doorknob. Surprised to discover it wasn't locked, he opened the entrance, peeked out of the room to ensure no one was around, and began his late night adventure. He still walked with a bit of a limp that wasn't due to his previously broken ankle, but it wasn't painful enough to deter him.

The hallways were empty as he traveled along to his destination. Not even the slightest noise could be heard, and it helped to keep him from getting worked up. He was put even more at ease the moment he opened the doors and stepped inside the large area that housed his siblings. Smiling as he passed by the ethereal beings in their glass capsules, he proceeded to the middle of the space, leisurely laid down on the ground, and gave a light laugh as he glanced around at them all.

"_Hello," _he greeted them, accompanying the salutation with a wave. It was almost immediate, a sudden change in the atmosphere and inside of him. There were no words to describe it other than feeling soothed like an infant being rocked to sleep. He felt….at home.

Sensing they were all staring at him and silently reaching out to him in return, he continued, _"I won't say much; I don't want to bother you, but….I felt compelled to come here."_

Like a gentle breeze rustling through tree branches, he heard his name whispered from all around him. It was nothing more, only _"Vash," _yet it seemed to convey a number of general sentiments – worry, tenderness, and love. Even without a physical connection, he felt them embracing him as if enveloping him in an invisible, protective cocoon.

"_Please don't blame him for my condition," _he stated in response to perceiving some of them were becoming upset. _"And please don't allow your hatred to grow because of what they did…." _His rational side knew he'd been wronged and it wasn't something to blame himself for; however, his emotional reasoning was quite opposite. _"It's….it's my fault. Please don't harbor any resentment toward them."_

He closed his eye, turned to lie on his left side, and let out a deep breath, losing himself in their affectionate energy. As if it'd just been tucked away this entire time, a large wing suddenly sprouted from near his right shoulder blade and draped over him like an indestructible blanket to shelter him.

"_Sometimes….I wonder….How would things be different if the Great Fall had never happened? Would we have found a lusher, more vibrant planet? Would we all be able to co-exist, us and humans together, without one solely depending on the other? Could you all be free from your containments and still help them? Or would it be us versus them like Knives believes it is now?..._Is _it us versus them? Could he be right?...I'm so confused….I don't even know what to do anymore….I don't think there is_ _anything I _can_ do….Has he won?..."_

As he drifted to sleep, the whispers of his name continued. It was the first time in weeks that he was able to rest without any troubles clouding his thoughts and his heart.

* * *

><p>For the next two nights, Vash returned to the room of his sisters; the visits were serving as a temporary escape from his Hell, and while he knew it couldn't continue for much longer, he treasured every second alone with his siblings. He sincerely hoped he was affecting them positively – lessening the anger Knives had influenced them with – just as they were affecting him with solace.<p>

So far, he hadn't been caught, and Knives didn't suspect him of leaving the confines of his cell. From what he'd overheard, they were a day out from arriving at the base location, granting him one last guaranteed night with them.

_If I could get them to change their minds, to see compassion isn't a bad thing, maybe Knives would change his mind too. If he releases them before all the humans are gone, with the way they are now, they'll destroy everyone and everything._

He felt as if he was making progress; their aversion to humans seemed to be waning, judging by the change in their moods whenever he stayed with them.

After taking a few steps into the room, he abruptly sensed something was amiss. Before he had time to turn around, someone grabbed him from behind, put a hand over his mouth, and spoke in a low tone, "Well well, I think you're a little lost." The man's breath was rank with the smell of alcohol. "Aren't you supposed to be in your cage, you despicable beast?"

Vash's eyes were wide and alight with panic, his breathing and heart rate accelerated from the startling ambush, and he couldn't think straight. In the past, he'd always been very good at coming up with ways to get out of bad situations; now, it was as if the traumatic events he'd experienced under Knives' supervision had crippled him more than just physically.

From the darkness in front of him, he saw two more followers appear. One slammed a fist into his stomach repeatedly until he tensed; the person holding him let go just as he doubled over and vomited. Shaking and tremendously weak, he fell to his knees. There was no time to recover; a strong kick knocked him sideways and completely onto the floor. All at once, his entire body was sent into a state of involuntary spasms. He gritted his teeth and groaned loudly as extreme pain traveled through him from head to toe. The electrocution was nothing like he'd ever been subjected to, and he was tempted to believe he'd take being shot by a bullet over it any day.

Ten seconds passed, and at last, it ended. While he lay panting and thoroughly spent, he noticed the two small barbs stuck in the left side of his neck and let his gaze follow the wires attached to them up to the gun-like weapon in one of the men's hands.

"Like it? We found it here on board several days ago. None of us knew what it was. Much better than what we imagined it'd be. We figured you'd be the perfect candidate to test it on."

The trigger was pressed again, and Vash lost control of his muscles once more. He shouted in pain as his whole being twitched like he was having a seizure. It was only another ten seconds, yet they seemed to tick by like minutes.

"You should've been killed a long time ago, you piece of shit. You murdered my family, my friends, destroyed my life – I'm grateful to my Master for being able to make you pay for your wretched existence. Even _he _wants to see you suffer; and he's your _brother_! Your own _brother _hates you! We're saving him the time and effort by doing this ourselves. One so powerful and great as _he_ shouldn't be bothered with wasting his time on you. He wants this, and we're thrilled to do it for him."

One of them ripped the wires away, while another poured something onto him. It wasn't water, and at the sound and sight of a match being struck and lit, his eyes grew large in shock and horror.

"No," he voiced softly, pleadingly. "Don't. I'm sorry. I didn't ever want to hurt anyone."

"Save it. Too late for you to make amends. It's time for you to burn in Hell where you belong."

Everything seemed to disappear around Vash as he watched the matchstick fall to the ground near his feet; it was like things were happening in slow-motion.

_Is this it? Is this the end?_

He saw the flames rise up from his body seconds before he was overtaken by excruciating agony. Writhing back and forth, he shrieked continuously and mentally screamed his twin's name.

* * *

><p>When the tortured cries didn't cease, Wolfwood and Livio both at last bolted upright in their beds; after a split-second glance at one another, they charged out the door in the direction of the victim's screeching. From the sound alone, the priest knew something was very wrong and much worse than what he'd already seen Vash endure.<p>

Out of nowhere, practically like a blur shooting by, Knives was ahead of them, and the instant the three of them reached the doorway, it all seemed to turn into a dream. The sight in front of them couldn't be real. It just couldn't be possible.

Fire had engulfed Vash from his feet to his torso and was rapidly making its way upward still.

Livio and Wolfwood were frozen in place, whereas Knives quickly sprang to action by leaving and returning in a matter of seconds with two buckets in hand. Rushing to his brother's side, the older plant poured the water from the pails onto the flames. It was enough to extinguish the majority of them; what small burning patches remained were hurriedly snuffed out by Knives' stripped-off shirt. Frenziedly, he surveyed Vash, taking in exactly how severe the damage was. From the shoulders down, the outlaw's flesh ranged in color and texture from white to red and black, blistery and shiny as well as leathery and charred. The smell in the room was similar to cooked meat, making Wolfwood almost sick to his stomach.

"Vash," Knives spoke quietly, his voice trembling.

The gunman's breathing was raspy and desperate, his large green eyes conveying everything wordlessly.

"Vash…." He suddenly got up to hook his arms under Vash's and demanded frantically, "One of you help me! We need to get him out of here!"

Livio ran to his aid, lifting Vash's ankles and trying to hold back the bile in his mouth from looking at the man's body up close. Walking fast, though being careful not to jostle the outlaw around excessively in order to prevent further distress, they headed for the infirmary area; Wolfwood trailed behind them as if in a daze. When they arrived, Vash was laid upon a metal table and wasting no time, Knives went to work on feeding IV lines into his arm. He strapped an oxygen mask around the younger plant's head and over his nose and mouth, saying "Try to take some deep breaths, Vash; focus on breathing," as he did so.

He was at a total loss. There was really nothing he could do except make attempts to keep Vash comfortable until….

From a short distance, Wolfwood and Livio observed the two men; both were stunned to witness Knives displaying an emotion other than malice and delight at someone else's expense. He seemed to be coming undone by the way he stared at his twin, concern, fear, and sadness in his blue eyes. It was miraculous to see him acting like a true brother, showing genuine compassion and alarm for his closest sibling – it didn't make sense to Livio and Wolfwood.

"No no, Vash," Knives spoke gently, his voice revealing he was holding back tears, and took the clear mask away from Vash's frail grasp to place it back on his face. "You need to leave it. Rest." Again, the younger plant tried to pull it down, and this time, Knives allowed him to do so. "What is it?"

Vash swallowed several times, struggled to catch his breath, and whispered, "Kn….Kni-….Knives…."

"I'm here, I'm here. What is it?"

The outlaw gasped loudly, his eyes widened, and he raised his head up as if willing himself to speak. "Wha-…." A couple of tears spilled down to his hair. "Why….Knives….I….I'm sorry…."

"Shh, relax." He re-situated the mask onto his twin's face and stroked his blonde locks tenderly. "Save your energy."

He wanted to take Vash's hand in his to convey his desire to comfort him, but he refrained; touching him seemed out of the question.

"Try to relax."

Vash looked to be struggling to stay awake and alert, and Knives hoped he'd be able to do so because once the man closed his eyes, Knives believed they'd be closed forever.

"Nicholas," Livio mumbled quietly. "Maybe we should go."

Wolfwood didn't move on his own accord; it took Livio physically nudging him along to get him out of the room.

Knives injected his brother with a high dose of pain medication, wondering what other options he had to alleviate Vash's anguish.

_I can't lose him. Not now – now that we're so close to inheriting his perfect world. I refuse to let him go….Please Vash….Don't leave me._

* * *

><p>An hour after the incident, Vash finally fell asleep – or passed out, Knives wasn't sure. His breathing had stabilized somewhat, yet was still shallow and erratic at times.<p>

Sitting in a chair next to the table, Knives stared at his twin intently. It was inevitable; Vash would die if he didn't think of something. And fast.

He wanted to see his brother punished, wanted to prove how despicable humans were – it was for his own good – but this….not like this….

"_Vash….I love you."_

"…_.I'm cold."_

"_I'll get you a blanket. What else can I do for you?"_

"_I'm cold."_

Exhaling deeply, Knives rubbed his face and reluctantly left the man's side to find something to cover him with. He returned with a large quilt, though instead of placing it over Vash right away, he climbed onto the table, straddled the outlaw's waist, and leaned down to where his forehead was resting against his twin's. An idea had come to him. Demonstrating great care, he put his hands on Vash's biceps, wincing at feeling his burnt skin, and closed his eyes. There was a good chance this would drain him enough to the point of being visibly noticeable; even with all of the plants he'd absorbed, it was going to require a decent amount of energy to thoroughly heal Vash, to restore him to how he was before they set fire to him.

Pouring all of his concentration into the process, he began melding with his twin. It wasn't anything that could physically be seen; the only hint of something phenomenal taking place was the slight glow that surrounded them that wasn't from any light in the room.

"_Vash….Brother…."_

It was a gradual sensation, of feeling his essence flow from him to Vash; this was on a scale much grander than the times he'd simply mended the gunman's broken bones.

Progress seemed to be coming about terribly slowly. Little portions of the charred flesh here and there were starting to be eliminated – the more damaged areas were peeling away, while the other spots appeared to melt into his skin before being replaced by healthy tissue. It was similar to a snake shedding its exoskeleton; instead of having pristine, new flesh like Knives', however, all of his previous scars were still present. Whenever it was over, it'd look like he'd never been enshrouded by flames.

The entire procedure lasted nearly an hour. Once completed, Knives rested down on top of his brother, panting and slightly shaking. A streak of black now colored a small portion of his white hair in the back of his head.

"_There. You should be fine now."_

After taking another thirty minutes to recover, he kissed along the long, jagged scar that adorned the right side of Vash's chest up to his shoulder. Whereas before he'd been repulsed and infuriated at the sight of his twin's marred body, he presently couldn't be more content with gazing at every disfiguration, including the metal scraps and bolts.

Vash sounded as if he was still having trouble breathing, prompting Knives to leave the oxygen mask over his face. The blanket was spread atop the blonde's nude form, and it was more than enough to cover him completely.

"Master."

Knives whipped around to find Legato standing in the doorway. "What is it?"

"We're here."

Glancing at his sleeping brother one more time, Knives seemed hesitant to leave, yet he nodded in acknowledgment and strode out of the room. Legato followed behind, allowing him to freely display his immense displeasure at discovering Vash hadn't died; he was even more incensed by the fact Knives had wasted his abilities on treating the extensive wounds. Apparently, he'd have to resort to other tactics. He wouldn't be able to kill Vash; it was obvious now that there was no way Knives would let that happen. Humiliating him had done wonders in the past, not to mention the sexual abuse had also caused him some injury. That would be the easiest way to torture him, to not only exhaust him, but constantly make him feel insignificant, as if he no longer had any purpose of being alive other than to be forced to submit; the men would be more than happy to oblige – there were no women around, and nothing would ever be enough to subject Vash to that would rectify the damage the Humanoid Typhoon had caused them all. They'd be delighted to continue degrading and breaking him.

And of course, there was always water; it'd been more than successful in traumatizing the gunman then and even now with its lingering mental effects. There'd always be some way to cause him harm, and if Knives was insistent about keeping his brother alive, Legato could accept that with the promise of simply having his own fun with the younger plant.

His mind was made up; since Knives refused to send Vash to his death, Legato could certainly make the gunman wish for it instead.

* * *

><p>It was astounding, as if a miracle had occurred during the hours since he'd left Vash. To be honest, Wolfwood expected that when he returned to see him, the blonde would be drawing his last breaths.<p>

Standing beside the table and peering down at his friend, the priest felt his heart practically burst out of his chest the moment Vash's eyelids began to flutter open. For several seconds, the green eyes looked around the room, taking in everything surrounding him before settling on Wolfwood. They were rapidly flooded with tears, for in his medicated, drowsy state, he believed he was in the presence of his deceased friend.

Sensing he wanted to say something, Nicholas gently removed the mask from Vash's face and set it aside. The word that came next nearly shattered him.

"Wolfy," the blonde murmured wearily, his lips quirking upward into a sweet smile.

There was no way he could tell Vash he was wrong, not after what he'd been through. All he could do was hope the outlaw wouldn't remember this conversation the next time he woke up. "Hey, Spikey," he replied tenderly.

"Is it over?" He spoke rather slowly, as if each word was more draining than the previous and even took a deep, rattling breath after almost every one. "Am I done?"

Wolfwood glanced away, fumbled over how to give him the truth without upsetting him too much, and finally explained regretfully, "No, Spikey. This is a dream. I'm sorry." He flinched at the enormous amount of sorrow that was now written in the man's expression. "It'll be over soon. I promise. Hang in there." That last statement made him hate himself; Vash had undergone so many atrocities, how dare he tell him to simply "hang in there."

Vash closed his eyes and shook his head. "I don't want to go back, Wolfy….Please let me come with you."

Blinking away tears, the priest whispered, "I can't. I'm sorry."

The blonde turned to stare up at his friend imploringly. "Please don't leave me here."

"I'm truly sorry, Vash. I can't stay. Close your eyes and rest."

"No….I don't want to lose you."

"You'll never lose me, Spikey." He took the gunman's hand in his and was devastated by how incredibly frail Vash felt.

"No more….no more…."

It wasn't long before the plant went to sleep, which was a blessing in Wolfwood's opinion – it was the only time Vash had a break from the sad existence his life had become.

_This has to stop; we have to put an end to this, _he thought decisively. _Luida better hurry up. I won't be able to hold myself back for much longer. I may be a man of God, but I will not hesitate to send Knives into a forever Hell just like he's done to Vash. I will take every single one of them down. Every. Last. One. _

Caressing the outlaw's forehead before kissing it gently, he let his lips linger against the still slightly bruised skin and breathed, "I will save you. I will never leave you again. It'll be you and me, just like we were before all of this." Tears fell from his eyes and onto Vash's brow. "You'll go back to being your kind, giving, buffoon-like self – maybe minus the ridiculous, naïve principles – and I'll still be the realistic one who always has to make sure you don't get in to too much trouble. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have that quiet, boring life you always wanted. I'll make sure you're safe; that was my job, and I never should've stopped doing it. Don't Give. Up. Not yet. I know it's hard. I know you're tired. But I swear to you, help is coming."

In his heart, he knew he'd most likely never recover if they murdered his beloved friend. But….if Vash asked him to end his life….if it came to that….he would do it.

He prayed it _wouldn't_ get to that point. Vash was a fighter – always had been. Nicholas couldn't see it happening. And suicide _was_ one of those things the man was steadfastly against….

As he walked out of the room, leaving the Humanoid Typhoon behind alone, he figured in the end, it'd perhaps be a good idea if he began preparing himself for such a moment.

_Just in case….Damn it….Lord, if you're ready to bring him home….I'll understand….I'll understand, Spikey…._


	17. Warrior

**A/N: **I hope you all had a happy new year! I can't believe this fic is almost a year old this month! Big thanks to all of you who have read, reviewed - I didn't think anybody would give this fic a try :) Shout outs to wolf-akuma, Tomokonne, and WraithLoverQueen for your very kind words. Makes me so happy to receive such sweet feedback. :)

This chapter is titled after a Demi Lovato song of the same name. Every time I listened to it, I'd think of a particular scene that happens in this chapter. Overall, this one is a pretty heavy, depressing, but critical chapter. :/

* * *

><p>The suns were just beginning to rise as the giant bulbs were being unloaded from the Ark. Standing off to the side, gazing out at the distant sand dunes and smoking a cigarette was Wolfwood. He'd made himself physically ill a time or two from the emotions raging inside of him, not to mention remembering the grotesque sight of Vash's scorched flesh. The outlaw's incessant screams of agony assaulted his ears and ripped at his heart. In all of his years, the priest had never met anyone as compassionate, understanding, loyal, and loving as Vash the Stampede. The man was always more than happy to help someone or put himself in danger in order to keep somebody else from harm. It didn't make sense to Wolfwood. It wasn't right; it wasn't fair. How could they do something so absolutely inhumane to someone as generous and kind as Vash?<p>

With what'd happened and everything previous that Vash had fallen victim to, would it really be a surprise if he was never the same again?

"Hey, how you holding up?"

Wolfwood didn't bother looking at his new company; he continued staring unblinkingly ahead and smoking.

A couple of minutes passed by before Livio tried conversing again.

"I'm….I'm sorry, Nick. Truly."

Still no response.

"When we were given this assignment, I could've cared less about what happened to him. I'd spent so many years hating him, waiting for the day I'd be the one to do the honors and kill him. I'd have the praises of my Master and know I did my part in securing His guaranteed control over Gunsmoke. This planet would fall to the greatest of beings, and I could die content in handing it over to them….And then we got here. Not even an hour after we arrive and….we see him…." He couldn't bring himself to say the ugly word, though he didn't have to; the priest would do it for him.

"Gang raped." Wolfwood stated casually and turned to look at Livio, who appeared taken aback at the bluntness in which the words were said and the dead-pan expression on the man's face. "Call it what it was. Don't sugar coat it or shy away from it. He was gang raped. That's what happened to him."

Waiting a moment to reply – because he was still somewhat speechless– Livio said, "You're right. That's what happened. And it got me thinking if maybe….you were right in your desperation to want to help him. Then last night….I see now, entirely….Vash was never the enemy."

Wolfwood dropped his cigarette, squashed it with his boot, inhaled deeply, and stared at the horizon again. "He doesn't belong on this planet, in this world, Livio. Someone like him….it's astounding how he's survived all these years. He's a strong person, but weak to everyone. He can forgive anyone and always strives to never kill those who have hurt him the most. With that being said, he'll never be the person he was ever again. I've been thinking about that since I came out here. As much as I'd love to have him be the friend I knew, he won't ever be the same. How can you be after all of this? Having him be a cold, empty shell of his previous self would make him no better than Knives. It may be a couple of weeks before reinforcements get here, and I wonder if it wouldn't be better to just….take his life for him now."

Livio couldn't grasp what he was hearing. "A mercy killing? That's what you think you should do?"

Lighting another cigarette, Wolfwood shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know anymore. I just….want him to be free."

The preacher retreated to the base ship, leaving Livio to mull over the man's words and consider if perhaps, yet again, Wolfwood was right.

* * *

><p>The next time Vash opened his eyes, he was back in his familiar room. Hurriedly touching his skin, he couldn't remember which parts of the last twenty-four hours were real and what were dreams. He swore he could still feel the heat of the fire on his body, but he nearly doubted if it'd actually happened because he had no burns.<p>

At the sound of the door opening, he sat up to find Legato regarding him with a smug expression. There wasn't any visible threat yet, but he felt unsettled nonetheless.

"You're looking quite well for what they did to you," the servant commented silkily. "Your brother will be disappointed."

Vash's eyes clouded with disbelief. "What do you mean?"

"You weren't aware? He ordered them to do it." The shock written on the outlaw's visage made him chuckle.

"That can't be true….they were lying…."

"I can't imagine how hard it must be for you to know that everyone is against you. There is no one left that cares about you, nor is there anyone who has shown any concern for your disappearance. You will be nothing more than a memory."

"But….Knives…."

"You are nothing more than a domesticated pet for him, an almost perfectly trained plaything. You should be so lucky to have acquired that position."

With a small laugh, Legato exited, leaving Vash quite crestfallen and feeling utterly alone. The servant was greeted just outside the room by another one of Knives' followers by the name of Allen.

"What's the price, Legato?" the man asked, thumbing through a handful of double-dollars.

"None. I simply ask that you don't allow yourselves to become too out of control. We wouldn't want our Master running to check on him prematurely now, would we?"

"Good deal."

Tucking away the cash in his pocket, Allen went in and closed the door behind him. Vash quickly got to his feet, knowing it'd be a fairer fight if he was at least upright and able to move. He was still in a rather emaciated, dehydrated state, but he concluded he had it in him for one more match.

"I'm surprised you're up," Allen said smartly. "I'm so used to seeing you lying on your back or propped up on all fours – or rather, all threes, I should say."

The insult caused Vash to blush slightly, but he remained silent. Even as the other male approached him, he didn't mutter a word.

Once the servant was standing right in front him, a brief moment passed before he was nearly knocked to the floor from the powerful slap delivered to his left cheek. It stung like hell and left a large, red mark on his skin, yet he still didn't make a sound. Growling angrily at the lack of response, Allen grabbed hold of Vash's jaw and turned his head to have him look directly at him again.

"Not going to talk, huh? You should be groveling at my feet."

Vash swallowed and kept his expression void of emotion.

"Finally learn your place? The great Vash the Stampede. Ha. You're no better than the dirt I walk on. Pathetic."

He pried the outlaw's mouth open and shoved his tongue in it. The slippery muscle prodded and licked everywhere, from Vash's teeth, to the roof of his mouth, and lastly his own tongue. When the servant was satisfied with that invasive technique, he proceeded to kiss him relentlessly. Nevertheless, Vash didn't stop him; he could sense that his refusal to do anything was doing more to piss Allen off than any other retaliation could. It was a victory in his book.

Only when a hand took hold of his flaccid member and began roughly massaging it did the gunman at last show signs of fighting back. He pushed on the man's shoulder and when that didn't work to stop him, he swiftly kneed him in the groin. Doubling over, Allen let out a string of curse words and foul names, allowing Vash to put some distance between them and dash for the closed entrance. He frantically twisted the doorknob and was alarmed to find it locked.

"Come on," he mumbled anxiously. "Come on. Please." Glancing at the other man and panicking from seeing him get up, he jiggled the handle more frenziedly. "Please, come on, come on. Somebody! Anybo-"

His yell for help was cut short as he was thrown to the floor. After dealing several kicks and punches to his torso and head, Allen removed the belt from his trousers and commenced whipping him with the leather band. With each strike, Vash emitted a quiet whimper.

"You son of a bitch! Worthless piece of shit!"

It was almost five minutes before the servant quit. Dozens of red welts adorned the plant's body as a result. Not bothering to give him a break, Allen hoisted him up, hurled him against the wall, and pressed himself against the Humanoid Typhoon. Upon feeling Allen's exposed cock prodding him, Vash began to shout for the first person that came to mind.

"Liv-"

The servant clapped his hand over the blonde's mouth and ordered, "Shut up. Shut the fuck up."

The outlaw's eyes were wide and anxiously darted to look from the ceiling to the floor, anywhere and everywhere as he grew more and more frantic. His startled, anguished cry in response to being roughly penetrated was muffled from Allen's hand still on his face, though was more than audible enough to resonate in the small space. He was already panting and sweating somewhat, and every other vicious thrust produced a quivering moan or choked whine to come from him. He knew he could always call to Knives, but what good would that do? His brother hated him, had despised him enough to permit them to burn him alive, to send him to death in a horrendous fashion – why would Knives care to rush to his aid now?

He closed his eyes, feeling ill at the heavy, hot breath on his neck and ear, as well as hearing the man's sounds of pleasure. Such treatment, such exploitation of his body was something he'd yet to become acclimated with, despite it happening quite frequently. Every time his physical being was invaded and violated, he felt a whirlwind of emotions. Filthy. Guilty. Mortified. Insignificant. Heartbroken. Abandoned.

He wondered if there'd ever be a day where he could just be numb or somehow train himself to mentally exist in a different world while it was happening.

"Ahh….Mmm, take it," Allen breathed as he buried his cock inside of the plant one last time and ejaculated. "Vash the Stampede. Nothin' but a fucking slut."

As the servant stepped away and zipped his trousers, the outlaw slowly sank down to the floor. Nestling against the wall, Vash hugged himself, which caused Allen to cackle at the piteous sight.

"I almost feel bad for you until I remember everything you've ever done, how you stole my life from me. Whatever my Master decides to do with you, it'll be too good, you bastard."

Vash nodded and in a tiny voice murmured, "I'm sorry."

For the next hour, the blonde didn't move from his spot on the ground. Sometimes, he couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and he would whisper hurriedly to himself, "It's okay. It's okay. Can't be true. He wouldn't do that. Why would he let them do that? Why doesn't he stop them? Why won't anyone help me? It'll be okay. It's okay. It's my fault. He doesn't want to hurt me. It's for my own good. It's my fault. Why won't they stop? I'm so tired. It hurts. It hurts. I'm so dirty. It's okay. I'm okay. Please, somebody…."

It was nearly an hour and a half later when he finally picked himself up. He sat down delicately on the bed and about mentally snapped from hearing the door suddenly opening again. The fact that the person carried a plate with a sandwich on it and a glass of water did nothing to diminish his uneasiness.

Wolfwood tried hard to conceal his inner turmoil; he believed he was doing a decent job, judging by how Vash recoiled against the wall as if afraid of him.

"Master sent me to give you some food," he stated plainly. "Here you go."

The plant merely continued to watch him closely, appearing as if he suspected the other man was going to leap at him any second.

_He's like an abused puppy, _the priest thought despondently. _Tentative and fearful. Distrusting. The way he's looking at me…._

With a sigh, Wolfwood sat at the foot of the bed – as far away from Vash as possible – and set the plate down between them before taking out a cigarette and lighting it. A solid minute went by with them sitting in silence and one of them frequently stealing glances at the other. When the stillness was at last torn apart by Vash, the preacher almost fell off the bed in shock.

"It's an awful habit," he said softly.

After Wolfwood recovered from the astonishment of the outlaw talking, he replied, "Yeah, it is. Just can't seem to quit."

A minute smile came to the blonde's face. "He was the same way."

"Your lover?" _Shit. _The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself and from the wounded expression on Vash's face, he really wished that he had.

"Friend….Got another I can have?"

Wolfwood quirked an eyebrow. "You smoke?"

"No."

"But you want one."

Vash nodded.

"Well alright."

The priest handed Vash a cigarette, who put it between his lips and let Wolfwood light it. Slouching against the wall, the gunman inhaled deeply, held it in for a few seconds, and then exhaled a large cloud of smoke. To Nicholas' amazement, just like the previous time weeks ago, Vash didn't cough or have any negative reaction to it – he smoked it like he'd been doing it for years. And for some odd reason, it was madly arousing to the preacher.

_Dear god, what am I thinking?! _Nicholas inwardly chastised himself. _That's the last thing he needs, to be objectified and sexualized even more. _

But there was no denying he was getting rather turned on by the sight. He missed Vash's body dearly, wanted to kiss him like his life depended on it just like the times they'd frenziedly kissed before, yearned to touch him and make him shout out his name in ecstasy….

Desperately hoping to get his mind off of the impure thoughts that were bringing him immense guilt, he blurted out, "So who did that to you last night?" He wanted Vash to give him a name, or names, in order to shoot them dead later.

The outlaw looked down and timidly answered, "I don't know. I, um….I couldn't see them."

Nicholas knew that was a lie. Vash had remarkable eyesight; there was no way he didn't see any of them. "Mmhm….It's a miracle you're alive."

Vash didn't respond.

Deciding it best to change the subject, he inquired, "You going to eat that?" and pointed at the food.

The plant stared straight ahead, let out a puff of smoke, and said quietly, "No thanks. I'm….I'm not really hungry."

Another lie. He could understand how it'd be hard to have an appetite after last night, but even so, the man _had _to be quite famished. "You sure?"

Vash nodded.

"Alright then."

For a short while, Wolfwood regarded him intently, taking in every aspect of his friend. The black section of Vash's hair was new and confusing for him, and he almost wondered if it'd simply been a dye job gone wrong. After he got passed that change, his mind kept producing images of Vash thrashing about and shrieking as the fire burned away at his flesh. It was remarkable how there were no visible traces of that horrid, vivid event. The marks from Allen's belt were new too, as well as bruising on the inside of the plant's thighs, and Wolfwood died a little from realizing there probably wasn't a day that'd gone by since they split up where his friend hadn't been mistreated in some way.

_How does he have the will to go on? How has he not turned out to be another Knives? It can only be a matter of time. I know he's strong, but…._

Sensing the other man staring at him, Vash hesitantly turned to gaze at him, though his eyes couldn't seem to settle on looking directly at his face. "Do you….Do I need to give you something for the smoke?" His expression was now one of shame and defeat. "I know things come at a price nowadays," he added faintly.

Nicholas was completely dumbfounded. The implication of that question made him nauseous. "I uh….No, you don't need to give me anything."

The Humanoid Typhoon smiled slightly. "Thanks."

"Sure thing."

There was a desire to be near Vash and then nowhere near him at the same time for the preacher. Deciding the latter was best for the moment, he got up and left without a word. He needed to clear his head, had to get away from the harsh reality of what his friend was going through. And besides, it was a good time to investigate the Ark like Luida wished since nobody was really around; Livio had probably already made decent progress.

Lighting another cigarette, he mumbled, "Get me far away as possible from him."

* * *

><p>The instant the door burst open a third time, Vash cowered at the head of the bed against the farthest wall. It was easy to tell what the three of them were there for, their reasons weren't hidden. Two had bottles of beer that were almost empty, and the third man was just as wasted; apparently the celebration for destroying Inepril was in full swing, and they were in search of topping it off with a nice reward. It was made even better for them by Legato allowing them in for free.<p>

"Aw, he looks a little scared," Nathan mocked and finished the last of his alcohol. "Poor little guy."

The other two, James and Bradley, laughed.

"Hey hey, I got a fun idea. Get 'im on the floor."

Vash kicked and flailed about, grasped the exposed metal bed frame, yet nothing was good enough to keep them away. Fiercely, he continued to fight back as they wrestled him to the ground; every time they thought he was done struggling, he broke free only to be grabbed by the ankle and tackled again.

_Please no, _he thought desperately. _Not again. I just want to be alone, please._

He yelped at his hair being yanked and fell backward. Quickly, two pinned him down – James with his knees resting on the outlaw's shoulders and Bradley holding on to his right leg – while Nathan chugged the last of his beer.

"Now keep 'im still. This is gonna be funny."

Gripping the plant's other leg to spread them apart, Nathan began pushing the top of his glass bottle against Vash until he at last found the spot that gave way.

"There it is!"

He tried ramming the object inside of the outlaw's body in one go, but found the muscles' resistance to be too great for such a feat; as he commenced rhythmically shoving it in and out – each invasive prod moving it deeper inside than the previous – Vash started to scream from the agonizing friction and size of the bottle neck. A hand hurriedly clapped over his mouth to quiet him, and the three servants' amused laughter helped to drown him out completely.

"Guess he's up for taking anything in the ass!"

"Bet he's wishing he would've burned to death now, worthless jerk! You're never gonna be anything better than this, bitch!"

"Sixty billion double-dollars? Ha! He's not even worth a buck!"

With tears blooming in his eyes, Vash glanced from one man's face to another, unable to comprehend how they could be enjoying something so cruel. Again, he thought of instances in which he did whatever he could to help someone else and now when he was in need of aid, there was no one. Everybody freely took from him, but rarely ever returned the gesture of giving back.

"Like that? Want some more?"

Vash shook his head, squirmed under the restraining hands, though it didn't do anything to keep Nathan from continuing to repeatedly sodomize him.

"Maybe next time we can try somethin' bigger, eh boys?"

The statement made the other two snicker, while the Humanoid Typhoon's eyes dilated from dread at the prospect.

"Alright alright. My turn," James finally interjected, putting an end to the violation eight minutes later.

"Heh, oops. Looks like we made him bleed," Nathan commented as he inspected the bottle and noticed red smears on the glass.

While seemingly spent, Vash gave one last try at keeping them away. As James and Nathan traded places, the blonde weakly attempted to crawl towards the door and feebly swatted at them, though it was a waste of energy. He was sedated once more and closed his eyes just as he was forcibly penetrated. Teardrops that weren't licked away by Bradley or James slid down to his hair, and his muffled squeals were mimicked and laughed at as they ridiculed him. He felt sick to his stomach at the numerous hands wandering over his body, and his cheeks flushed with utter disgrace as he realized he was steadily becoming hard himself, in spite of the tremendous amount of pain James was dealing him by straining his sore and slightly ripped muscles even further.

_Why?...Why?...I don't understand….Why?..._

He cried out from the stinging anguish of the man's semen irritating his internal bodily wounds several minutes later. There was hardly a need for them to hold him down anymore, for he was wholly exhausted, lying limp, panting heavily, and occasionally hiccupping as a sob sounded from him.

"My turn."

Vash turned his focus to stare at the wall to his right, and his once vivid, lively eyes were now puffy and red from shedding tears, in addition to conveying sheer despair. The kind-hearted spark that'd been so often found within his gaze had seemingly disappeared for good.

_Come back for me, Wolfy. Please. I just want it to end…._

He closed his eyes briefly as guilt and a sense of incredible selfishness consumed him due to his next thought.

_Someone please end it….Please just kill me._

* * *

><p>It'd been much longer than he would've liked since he'd seen his brother. There were many things he'd had to attend to that prevented him from checking on the younger plant and ensure that he was still well – and alive. And even though he'd put Legato in charge of standing guard, he couldn't help but be worried as hell about Vash.<p>

A repeat of the night before was something he'd never be able to handle again.

There was just enough moonlight coming through the window to dully illuminate the pale person lying on the bed. Silently, Knives closed the door behind him and merely stood by it for a period as he observed the prone form of his twin. Vash was on his stomach, head turned to stare at the opposite wall ahead of him, and naked; he hadn't been given any new clothing yet.

_Good, he's still here, _Knives thought, relieved. _He's alright. _

Removing his shirt, he stepped to the bed and climbed on top of it to straddle the blonde's hips. There was no reaction from Vash other than blinking that showed he was awake. He didn't move at the gentle fingertips traversing down his back, nor did he quiver at the smooth lips ghosting over the nape of his neck and earlobe.

Warm breath heated his somewhat chilled skin as Knives' breathing grew heavier from him becoming aroused. The older plant inhaled his brother's scent, emitted a noise of satisfaction, and proceeded to forge a trail of kisses down the middle of the gunman's back all the way to his left thigh.

_I can't lose him….I love you so much, Vash. I need you._

He nuzzled his face against the man's leg for a moment before returning upward to kiss Vash's cheek and shoulder. Affectionately, he stroked the tangled, disheveled blonde locks and rubbed himself against his twin. The action made him moan softly and rest his face near the crook of the Humanoid Typhoon's neck. Still, Vash was completely immobile.

Swiftly, Knives undid his belt and took off his remaining clothing. He coated his erection with lube, traced the contours of Vash's round backside with the tip for a moment, and then at last positioned himself to enter him. The servants earlier in the day had done well in scrubbing the younger plant clean; Knives had no idea he'd already been ridden multiple times and was immensely fatigued – physically and mentally. If it wasn't for the quiet sound that escaped Vash in response to Knives sliding his cock inside of him, it'd be easy to assume he was sleeping with his eyes open.

"Ohhh…." Knives sighed, gripping his twin's waist as he practically laid on top of him. With each slow, penetrating thrust, the blonde's fingers curled more and more until he was clutching a fistful of the bed sheet in his hand. For the most part, he was mute and expressionless. On occasion, he'd wince or whimper softly, but his eyes always remained focused on the wall and open, looking blankly ahead.

"Mmmm….." _He always feels so good, _the older plant mused, continuing to drive himself in and out of his twin steadily. He glided his tongue along Vash's shoulder blade all the way up to his face. _So beautiful….Almost perfect….If only we could make another plant like us this way…._

Ten minutes after he started making love to his brother, Knives at last went stiff and ejaculated inside of Vash. He rested his forehead on the outlaw's back as he leisurely drifted down from the pleasurable high of reaching orgasm. Once his breathing slowed to normal some time later, he got off of his twin and put his clothes on.

Seconds after the door closed and he was alone again, two tears spilled from the deadened green eyes like the last of his virtue slipping away forever.

* * *

><p>The following afternoon, Wolfwood settled on trying again to give Vash something to eat. If the blonde refused, he knew he'd be sorely tempted to force him to have it.<p>

The servant filling in for Legato nodded in approval for Wolfwood to enter, and from the second he turned to look at his friend, he nearly dropped the plate of food and fell to his knees. Lying on his back, right arm above his head and wrist handcuffed to the metal bed frame, was Vash. Numerous cloths were tied around his head to cover his mouth.

There was no way to tell how long he'd been left like this, and the preacher was on the verge of losing it from the despicable sight.

_Vash….Spikey…._

With lead feet, Wolfwood started toward the side of the bed, anger and sympathy running rampant inside of him upon seeing the desensitized, yet lamenting sentiments shining through in Vash's gaze. The Humanoid Typhoon didn't move whatsoever as he was surveyed head to toe by the unwanted guest. Wolfwood grew even more enraged at spotting the many fresh bruises covering him – most were concentrated around his neck, thighs, and hips – and wanted to vomit at discerning teeth marks on his flaccid member.

He had no words, was clueless on what to do. There was nothing he _could _do, really.

Noticing a key lying on the floor by the bed, he hurriedly retrieved it and unlocked the restraint. Next, he undid the fabrics from around the man's head and put them aside.

"Take a little break," he coaxed quietly. "Get up and walk around if you need to. Eat this if you're hungry. Just take a break."

Gradually, Vash lowered his arm and cradled it to his chest. Once he realized Wolfwood was being sincere, he sat up, grimacing as he did so.

"Want a smoke?" Wolfwood felt dumb for the offer, but he didn't have any better ideas on what to say.

Vash sluggishly shook his head. After a long moment of silence, he at last questioned in a voice just above a whisper, "Are they loaded?"

"Huh?"

He nodded at the priest and repeated, "Are they loaded?"

Nicholas glanced down and suddenly understood: his pistols. "Yes, they are." He'd forgotten he even had them on. "Why do you ask?"

The outlaw blinked a few times, nodded again, and appeared as if he was trying to smile.

Without him even saying it, Nicholas got the hint loud and clear. It tore him up, despite him having suggested the same to Livio the day prior. All of the barbarities, he finally comprehended; if Vash was actually contemplating the subject – especially to the point of asking if the weapons were ready to go – then he knew it had to be worse than his greatest nightmare, worse than what he'd thought it already was.

Very carefully, the plant stood and started walking about the room with a severe limp. When his back was to Wolfwood, the priest wondered if he should just do it, just put an end to the poor man's misery. He believed there was no way Vash would turn on Knives at this point and because of that, humanity would be wiped out; if everyone was going to die, wouldn't it be more humane to take the Humanoid Typhoon with him to the other side?

Wolfwood was still mulling over the topic hours later. He sat alone several yarz away from the fallen ship and the Ark, staring at nothing, with a cigarette in his mouth and a bottle of beer in his hand.

"Nicholas," Luida greeted. "Are you there?"

"I'm here."

"Can you talk?"

"Yes."

"Good. I think we'll be ready to approach in a week. What can you tell me about the Ark?"

"It's got only two entrances, both at opposite ends from one another. You may be able to blast a few holes in it, but it seems pretty resilient. There are many places to hide and only a handful of areas that would be big enough for an ideal confrontation. There's one room filled with plants lining the walls in capsules, and I get the impression they're linked to Knives and possibly Vash in some way, for better or worse."

"Do you think we could get them on our side?"

"I doubt it. I'm sure if they can be influenced, Knives has already brainwashed them too."

"We'll have to depend on Vash then."

The statement unintentionally offended the priest. "He has enough weight on his shoulders, enough burdens to carry," he snapped. "He doesn't need to have any more added."

"I don't doubt that he does, but we still need him to-"

"They set him on fire!" he interrupted furiously. He was now ready to unload all of his frustrations. "Do you understand?! They left him to burn to death while still alive! And now he's chained to his bed like a pitiful sex slave just so they can fuck him even easier! He doesn't need anyone's fate resting solely on him; he deserves to be free from everything!"

Wolfwood bowed his head and grabbed fistfuls of his hair as rage surged through him. For a lengthy period, there was silence from both parties. It wasn't fair – it wasn't fair that everyone's life was on the line and Vash was the only person who could save them. It wasn't fair that he was expected to do it, no matter whatever treatment he received for it. It wasn't fair that he was enduring so much brutality only to have people blame him for what his brother had done or demand that he try harder to ensure humanity remained alive.

It wasn't fair.

The person who at last broke the heavy stillness wasn't Luida or Wolfwood.

"Isn't there something we can do?" Meryl asked, her voice wavering as she started to cry. "Some way we can let him know that he isn't fighting alone? Some way we can let him know….we…."  
>"We love him and miss him and want him to come home," Millie interjected tearfully. "You have to bring him home, Nicholas D. Wolfwood! You have to!"<p>

Luida's tone was somber and sincere as she said, "I'm sorry; I didn't realize….None of us did….We'll do everything we can to get there as soon as possible."

Wolfwood nodded. "Yeah….please do."

"We'll um….we'll be in touch. In the meantime….do what you can."

"Yeah."

In solitary once again, Wolfwood chugged his beer and threw the bottle aside when he was done. A week was still too long. So much bad could happen in that time. What he wanted to say was to Hell with everyone else – hadn't they relied on Vash enough to save them without even knowing it? It was time they started doing it themselves, take up arms and meet Knives' army head on. After a hundred and twenty some odd years, Vash deserved to have a break and be granted the opportunity to live happily and peacefully, to put down his guns and let everyone protect each other, to have somebody protect _him_. He deserved to have a taste, if only a little one, of a world made of love and peace.

"_Sometimes we must become the devil himself."_

The priest sighed, stood, and dropped his cigarette in the sand. Vash had yet to turn into something so malevolent. It was clear Wolfwood's job now was to eventually have the devil protect a fallen angel and get him home.

* * *

><p>It was ten at night when Knives returned to his twin. Without a word, he scooped the presently sleeping man into his arms and proceeded to his private quarters. Gently, he laid Vash in the bathtub and turned on the faucet. Immediately, the blonde jerked awake and frantically attempted to scramble out of the tub.<p>

"It's okay, it's okay," Knives quickly assured him, holding him back and stroking his hair.

Repeatedly, Vash tried to push him away; his eyes were filled with terror and his breathing was fast.

"Vash, it's alright. You're fine. I promise."

Grabbing his brother's arm and glancing back and forth between Knives' face and the rising water, the younger plant moved as far back against the tub as he could, as far away from the flowing liquid as possible.

"It's alright. I won't let anything happen to you."

Knives sat on the edge of the tub, and Vash hugged him tightly. As Knives continued to comb his fingers through his twin's golden hair, he reiterated words of support in hopes of pacifying him.

While Vash ultimately gave up trying to escape, he still quivered involuntarily and looked as if he was going to make a run for it any second. He nearly wept at the touch of his brother's hands meandering over his body as every bit of him was washed. It didn't matter how thoroughly he was cleaned; he'd begun to constantly feel atrociously filthy and defiled.

When Knives was done, he lifted Vash to his feet, dried him off, brushed his teeth, and then instructed him to sit on the side of the tub in order to shave his face. There wasn't much stubble, but still enough of it to warrant Knives taking a minute to tend to it. Once that was done, he went to work on giving the man's hair a trim. For the entirety of the grooming, the outlaw kept his vision downcast to the floor.

"Are you feeling alright?" the older twin asked earnestly, snipping away at the damp strands of hair.

No answer.

"We'll be setting out again tomorrow. Everything is ready, so I'd prefer to sleep here with you tonight." As he finished, wiping the small traces of shaving cream off of the gunman's face and brushing away some trimmings from his shoulders, he continued, "Go lay down. I'll be right there."

Vash obeyed, shuffling out of the bathroom with his head bowed. He settled under the covers on the right side of the bed and prayed his brother would just let him sleep. His body was sore, torn, exhausted, and the last thing he wanted was to be used yet again for someone else's pleasure. He laid on his back, waiting for the other man with intense apprehension.

The light was turned off, and Knives removed his shirt before sliding in next to his brother. Tenderly, he caressed the Humanoid Typhoon's right cheek while placing a delicate kiss onto the left.

"Sleep well," he whispered and rested his arm across Vash's chest to cuddle him.

Two hours after Knives had fallen asleep, Vash was still wide awake. His mind was bombarded with dozens of thoughts, memories, questions, and voices. It was overwhelming….

"_We're the only brothers we have."_

"_Life is full of choices; it's what we do with them that matters."_

"_I'm betting on you."_

"_Take care of Knives!"_

"_You're a plant. You're a superior being."_

"_Sometimes, there's no choice. One of these days, you're going to have to pull the trigger, Spikey."_

"_No one has the right to take the life of another."_

"_We'll make this our Eden; you'll have the world you always wanted, dear brother."_

"_Just hang in there. Just a little while longer."_

"_The ticket to the future is always blank. You can always write a new one."_

"_You have free-will, remember? It's what makes us the only two of our kind."_

"_I'm not your lover or someone in need of your terms of adoration! I'm not even your friend! You were an assignment. Nothing more."_

"_Your own brother hates you!"_

"_Let them 'love' you back, or rather show you how much they don't care for you by being the animals they are."_

"_No matter what happens, Spikey, you have me."_

"_You. Are. Nothing. You're powerless, worthless. _I'm_ the one who holds the power."_

"_He said, 'Tell Spikey I love him.' Is that you?"_

"_You _will _survive. You're Vash the Stampede."_

"_This world is made of love and peace!"_

"_Sound life…."_

Unable to bear it any longer, he got up and knelt on the floor in front of the dresser nearby. It was in the bottom drawer, he remembered; very cautiously in order to not make any unnecessary noise, he opened it and removed the wooden box inside. Taking his silver revolver in hand, he double-checked to see if there were any rounds in it, though he knew there wouldn't be; still, he wondered if going through the motions would be enough to comfort him without granting him the consequences.

For a good minute he stared down at it in his lap. When a tear splashed onto the metal, he picked it up and pushed the barrel against the side of his skull. It wasn't until he cocked the gun that he began to totally come apart, weeping softly and feeling like a tremendous disappointment to everyone, including himself.

The moment he heard the first _click,_ he rapidly repeated pulling the trigger until all six imaginary bullets were lodged into his head. With the action completed, he let the weapon fall from his grasp as he sobbed.

The sudden noise startled Knives awake. Anxiously, he glanced beside him to find Vash no longer on the bed beside him, but huddled on the floor next to it.

"Vash!" he exclaimed worriedly, getting up to rush to his twin. "Vash. What's wrong? Why are you crying?" His gaze strayed from the blonde's tormented expression and landed on the pistol lying near his hand. "What are you doing with that?"

Through his uncontrollable sniffles, Vash was able to force out, "Why do you hate me?"

The question would've most likely knocked Knives to the floor if he'd been standing. "What?" he replied, stunned. "Vash-"

"What did I ever d-do to have you h-hate m-me? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know we don't agree, but I don't understand. I d-don't know what I did. Why would you let them kill m-me? Hurt me? You were right; I was wrong. Is that what you want to h-hear? This world is f-filled with hate and immoral p-people; there's no such thing as a world m-made of love and peace. I get it, okay? You're right. P-Please don't hate me. I m-miss how we were, how it used to be. You always looked out for m-me. What did I do? I want my brother back."

As he listened to Vash spill his emotions, Knives grew more and more heartbroken. This is what he'd desired all along, wasn't it? To have Vash entirely broken and build him back up to what he _should_ be? To wipe out the forgiving, loving, sympathetic nature that Rem had helped flourish within him? Now that the moment had come at last, he found it hard to take. The younger plant believed he loathed him, was in enough distress to be ready to end his life, and those were things he never wished to have happen, were things he wasn't prepared for. Only when the man was almost snatched away from him forever did he realize how much Vash meant to him, how much he needed him; he'd always known that, just never stopped to comprehend it entirely.

Throwing his arms around his twin, he expected Vash to shove him away, but instead, the Humanoid Typhoon merely melted against him and let him hold him.

Knives buried his face in the soft, blonde hair, caressed the outlaw's cheek with his thumb, and whispered, "I don't hate you. I could never hate you, brother….I love you. I love you, Vash. Don't ever think that I don't. We've shared so much together. I want to give you everything you ever dreamed of; you, me, our sisters – we'll have the world you've always wanted. I had to let you experience it for yourself, to see humans are not what you believe they are. It hurts, I know, but you'll be better for it. Now you understand….I love you, Vash. My dear, sweet brother."

"Make it stop, p-please….I'm so tired, Knives."

"I know, Vash. I know. We're almost done. We're almost there."

Placing multiple kisses onto the younger plant's head, Knives stayed where he was with his twin secured in his embrace; he stayed even after Vash exhausted himself and slipped away into sleep.

It was an hour before Knives picked the other man up and tucked him into bed once more.

_I may have pushed him too far, _he thought as he rubbed Vash's stomach in a comforting gesture. _For that, I'm truly sorry, Vash. He's naïve, sensitive….And while I'd like him to rid himself of her futile principles, to turn against humans….I don't want him to lose it all. I don't want him to lose everything that makes him _him_….I still need to be able to recognize you, brother….._

_Vash….beloved, thoughtful Vash….We'll be home soon….We'll have our Eden soon…._


	18. Loving An Angel

**A/N: **My apologies for taking so long. This chapter was so difficult. I think I'm going to be taking a little break to recharge. At least it's the longest chapter yet to hold you all over til the next one! :)

Major thanks to **wolf-akuma, KnightOfLelouch, ClanredLady, **and **Alex **for your reviews! Extra shout out to **ClanRedLady** for becoming my new beta and because you know why :p and **Alex** - (since I couldn't reply to your review in a message, I'll do it here!) you may have given me the longest review, but it was one of the sweetest I've ever received; I love lengthy reviews, so feel free to write as much as you want with one! :) I seriously melted when I read it. Really made me feel great, and you're absolutely right in that it gets so hard to write sometimes with all of the horrible things he goes through. I get emotionally drained and depressed and have to put it away for a day or two at a time before I can go back to it, but I love it at the same time. It means a lot to hear you say the storyline is creative and does well in encompassing both manga and anime elements because I worry about both of those things a lot. I sincerely worry sometimes that the content will have people angry and up in arms, so I'm very thankful that even though you have to step away from reading it because of such, you come back to it. :)

And that goes for all of you as well, that I'm so glad you haven't gotten angry or turned off by it and are willing to stick around with me on this thing. I think it's one of my best, and while I love it, it means so much more that you all do too. :)

Okay! Enough of this lengthy note. Time for a Knives and Vash centric chapter. I'm exhausted from it and ready to get it posted for y'all. Going to take a break and try working on a different fic idea for V/W (really, I just need something happy for them lol), so it may be awhile til the next chappie. Enjoy and I will see you all in a few months! :D

* * *

><p>It was three o'clock in the morning when Vash's eyelids fluttered open. He yawned, brought the covers up closer to his chin, and just as he was about to roll onto his side, he noticed Knives sitting on the edge of the bed with his arms crossed and staring at the floor ahead of him.<p>

"Knives?" he spoke sleepily, getting up to move next to his brother. He became even more worried upon spotting the glistening tear tracks on the man's face. "Knives, what's wrong?"

It took awhile, but the older plant finally answered, "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

Vash hadn't expected _that_ type of reply. As he attempted to search for words, Knives continued.

"I thought about you often, hoping you'd come back to me after living among humans and seeing their true nature and how inferior they are. When you refused me again in July….I wanted to make you suffer for it. But I've never, _ever, _hated you, Vash." He turned to look at his twin, who seemed stunned by the statements. "We may have our sisters and share a connection to them, but _nothing_ will ever compare to what _we _have." Brushing some loose strands of hair back in order to better see the gunman's visage, he smiled. "You're my brother. There's no one and nothing alive that's like us. We have something together that can't be found with anyone else. I never want you to leave me again. I love you." After cradling Vash's face in his hand for a moment, he folded his arms once more and averted his gaze. "You should rest."

Vash turned away too, suddenly feeling embarrassed and selfish for what he'd said earlier to Knives. He couldn't recall an instance in which he'd seen his twin shed even a single tear, and now, he'd made him do so by claiming something apparently so far from the truth – that Knives hated him – without thinking about how it'd affect the other man.

Crawling behind the older plant, Vash wrapped his arm around Knives' waist and leaned forward against his back. There wasn't anything that needed to be explained. The two of them sat together in silence, and whenever Vash felt the hint of a tear drop splash onto his skin, he squeezed his twin briefly as if to say, "I'm here for you."

Twenty minutes passed, and Vash was almost asleep, when Knives gently pulled the outlaw's arm away and turned to guide him to lie down. Vash held onto his twin, wanting him to rest his head on his chest, but after just a few seconds, Knives chuckled and murmured, "Sorry, but you're not very comfortable right there," referring to the grid of metal bolted into the left side of the gunman's chest.

"Oh, yeah. Guess it's been awhile since I've slept with someone like that," Vash confessed. "Or tried to."

"I won't deny that I'm happy to hear such a thing." The two of them turned to lie facing each other, and Knives tenderly caressed his brother's hair and cheek. "What do you say to spending the day together? Just you and me."

The younger plant's eyes sparkled excitedly. "Really? You won't be too busy or-" He abruptly halted himself in order to ensure he didn't give away any sort of hint that Knives' men had been assaulting him the past two days just in case he wasn't aware of it. "-Something?" he finished with instead.

"No. It'll be just you and me, like it used to be."

Vash smiled delightedly. It almost seemed like a dream. He was wrong; Knives was the only ally he had left, the only person who actually cared about him.

"Now get some rest."

"Hey Knives?"

"Yes?"

He glanced down, unsure if he should even bother with asking; it seemed childish. "Can you….Can you sing to me? I remember it always used to help me feel better."

"Anything for you."

Snuggling closer to his brother, Vash felt safe and secure in Knives' embrace, and with the help of fingers combing his hair softly and the soothing words and melody of his favorite song, he went to sleep quickly.

* * *

><p>At eight-thirty in the morning, Knives roused to light knocking on the door. He promptly got up to answer it in order to keep Vash from waking and found Legato.<p>

After taking a second to marvel at the beauty of his Master's unclothed torso, the servant began quietly, "Forgive me for disturbing you, however, I need to inform you that your men are ready and await your next command."

"Set course for New Jersey. We should arrive within five days. As for today, I'm placing you in charge of handling any problems that may arise; I will be unavailable."

"Master?"

"I'm staying here with him."

Knowing full well who Knives was referring to, Legato looked past him to spot Vash sprawled out on the bed with the covers down to his hips. The sight repulsed him.

"Do not disturb us."

The servant didn't have a chance for a rebuttal, for Knives swiftly closed the door and sufficiently ended the conversation. As he returned to the bed, Vash started twitching and mumbling incoherently. It seemed like harmless dreaming until his whole body began violently jerking.

"No….No….Stop!" he shouted, and after a few more seconds, his eyes opened in terror.

"Easy, easy," Knives said consolingly. "You're alright."

Vash hurriedly sat up, visibly shaking, and buried his face in his hand.

"It was just a dream….Hey, come on, Vash. You're safe."

"I'm sorry….Did I wake you?"

"No, lay back down. It's early; get some more rest." When the blonde didn't move, he decided on a different technique. Sliding his palm along the inside of his brother's thigh in a way that allowed him to just barely brush against the outlaw's cock, he purred, "Want me to help you forget?"

Vash recoiled from the touch and said timidly, "Don't." He grew even more apprehensive upon watching Knives strip himself completely naked.

"I can make you feel better. Relax." Inching closer to his twin, Knives situated himself between the gunman's legs and wrapped his own around Vash's waist.

"Don't," the Humanoid Typhoon repeated weakly. "Please."

"Shhh, how long's it been since someone made you feel good? How long's it been since you let yourself come?"

"Knives, please."

The older plant wiped away the falling tears and said tenderly, "I want to help you find release; let me give it to you."

Vash surrendered to his brother's wishes, knowing he had no other choice. It was sickening, feeling like this was all he was meant for. But as Knives continued, something was different. The hands on his face and neck were gentle, not violent. The lips against his own were delicate and careful, not crushing and demanding. It almost seemed wrong, being kissed and touched with such affection. Tentatively, he opened his mouth and returned the sensual contact. The result was tingles all throughout him, which ultimately made him hard within a minute, and a sense of being appreciated and sincerely loved.

At the touch of Knives' erection pressed against his own, soon followed by his brother's hand encompassing them both, he let out a small gasp that was lost in the other man's mouth. This wasn't right; it wasn't supposed to feel this exhilarating.

Sensing the younger plant's hesitance, Knives took Vash's hand and guided it to rest on his shoulder; it was giving unspoken permission that the outlaw seemingly felt he needed in order to touch his twin. With approval granted, Vash ran his palm along the male's muscular chest for a time before hooking his arm under Knives' to clutch his back. He broke away from the passionate kissing and fell against his brother as Knives rubbed their cocks faster. Closing his eyes, he freely moaned, and his body frequently tensed as he neared the peak.

"Knives, I…." he panted. "….I'm close…."

"Me too. Almost there."

"I can't stop it."

"It's okay. You don't have to. Don't hold back."

About a minute later, they reached orgasm together. Vash threw his head back, letting out a final cry of ecstasy before he slumped against his brother once more and hugged him. He felt Knives squeezing the now sensitive head of his member a few more times before at last stopping. It wasn't until the other man released his grip that Vash pulled back and his already flushed cheeks reddened even more upon spotting the decent amount of semen covering his twin's hand.

"Oh my god," he said rapidly. "I'm-I'm sorry. I-"

Knives chuckled. "It's alright, Vash. Nothing to be ashamed about. I see it's been quite some time."

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, casting his gaze to the floor.

Doting a soft kiss onto the gunman's cheek, Knives reiterated, "It's alright. I'm going to clean up. Lay down and I'll be right back."

While the older plant was washing his hands in the bathroom, Vash stayed seated on the bed and appeared terribly conflicted. Even with Knives' assurances and the affectionate manner in which he was just treated, he still felt like he'd done something revoltingly sinful. He'd sullied Knives by spilling himself on him; there _had _to be a punishment for something so repugnant. He brought his knees to his chest and wept.

_Oh god, what have I done? Why did I let myself lose control like that? He's disgusted, I know he is. Why didn't I stop myself? How did I allow myself to enjoy it? I shouldn't have. It's only for him….I'm only supposed to let him enjoy it. I'm so selfish….I'm so sorry._

"Vash, what's wrong?"

There wasn't an answer. As the blonde wiped his eyes, smearing the tears on his face, Knives made to embrace him, though was immediately prevented from doing so.

"Don't touch me," Vash choked out. "P-please. Please."

"Vash…." He wasn't sure what to do. He'd only desired to make him feel better; evidently, it'd had the opposite intention. But Vash had acted as if he'd liked it; what was the problem? Why was he being like this? "I thought you wanted it. The way you shuddered and moaned….Why didn't you stop me?" Reaching out to grasp his arm, he continued, "Vash-"

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Knives instantly retracted his hand, startled by the outburst. For a lengthy period, he sat beside his brother, not looking at him or speaking to him. Eventually, Vash calmed down, though he displayed no signs of breaking the uneasy stillness between them. He knew he should apologize for yelling and getting upset, but he kept quiet and felt even worse when Knives got up and dressed. Discreetly, he observed his brother gather up papers from the single bookshelf in the area before taking a seat at the table on the opposite side of the room from the bed. The other man went to work on whatever it was he needed to do, scribbling away on pages and reading over many others. Vash nearly asked him what he was doing, yet ultimately decided against it; he shouldn't bother him unnecessarily.

Settling down under the sheets, he sighed and closed his eyes tiredly. He felt like he should do something, anything – at least be awake in case someone attacked him, yet he was unbelievably worn out from the events of the past couple of days. Hopefully, Knives would forgive him and things would be okay when he woke up again.

Hopefully.

But things were never okay. _He _wasn't okay.

Hiding his face with his hand, he was beginning to feel just as immensely discouraged as he'd been the previous night. Part of him regretted that the gun wasn't loaded….

Just before he retreated into his subconscious completely, he swore he heard Knives say softly, "Sleep well, dear brother. I love you."

* * *

><p>"<em>Stop! No! Get away from me!"<em>

"_I don't think so! Get back here!"_

_The sounds and sight of Vash struggling to escape the group of six men working to subdue him didn't seem to bother Wolfwood whatsoever. He nonchalantly lit a cigarette and wordlessly watched as the gunman's clothes were ripped off of him, not wincing at the violent beating he was currently receiving or the vulgar insults he was being showered with. _

_As the plant was restrained, lying on his back, he tilted his head and spotted the preacher at the opposite end of the room. _

"_Wolfy! Please help me!" He cried out as he was penetrated, and the man on top of him immediately proceeded to aggressively thrust within him. "Please…." he repeated, albeit much more weakly. "Help me."_

_Wolfwood showed no indication that he'd heard, or rather that he didn't care. _

_After five minutes, the man came inside the outlaw, and as the next in line prepared for his turn, Vash was turned over onto his stomach. Reaching out his broken hand toward the priest, he pleaded, "Nicholas….I need you. Please." He closed his eyes briefly from the person forcing their erection inside of him and squirmed as the man laid on top of him, held him in place, and continued to defile him. _

"_Stop….Get off of me….Please…." he uttered defeated._

_Upon spotting his friend walking away, he once again called to him._

"_Wolfy! Don't leave me! Please don't leave me." His heart shattered as Wolfwood left and closed the door. "No….Don't leave me…."_

_It was an hour before the group was finished. After they filed out, the preacher entered the room to find the Humanoid Typhoon lying crumpled on his side in the middle of the area. His body appeared broken in several places; bruises, blood, and semen shined on his skin. Kneeling beside him, Wolfwood tossed his cigarette away and gazed at the gunman's battered visage. Most of the tears had dried, though there were still some wet streaks left in their wake. _

_Without a word, the clergyman removed his gun from its holster and pressed the barrel against Vash's temple. The plant didn't flinch at all, didn't react to the sound of the weapon being cocked; his eyes stared unblinkingly ahead of him. _

_The shot was deafening. Almost instantly, the dulled spark of life was snuffed out of the green orbs. It didn't take long for a pool of blood to begin seeping outward from under the outlaw's head. Carefully, Wolfwood closed Vash's eyes and mumbled a prayer. _

"NO!" Wolfwood yelled, sitting up and wringing the sheets in his hands. He was covered in a cold sweat and his heart was racing.

"I wouldn't," he mumbled to himself. "I'd never…." He rubbed his face. _I did. That's _exactly _what I did. I just left him, and now I want to kill him? When it was my fault to begin with?! He's in this position because of _me.

He got dressed, ran to Vash's cell, and threw open the door. There was no one there and no sign of where he went either.

"Shit," he whispered, fearing the worst. "Please, Lord."

Stepping out of the room, he tried to appear as if he wasn't currently flipping out as a couple of men walked by.

"Looking for that mess of a whore?" one of them asked.

Wolfwood's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Yeah," he replied steadily.

"You'll have to wait til tomorrow to have him do what you want. Our Master has him all to himself today."

Knowing Vash was with Knives did little to make him feel better. It was hard to determine whether being with the sadistic plant was a good thing or not. "Ah, got it. Thanks."

"Sure thing."

_Shit. Well, maybe he'll go easier on him than everyone else…._

Even with how Knives had acted when Vash was burned, it didn't convince Wolfwood that he'd change the way he treated the outlaw for long.

If Knives was keeping Vash to himself for the day, then yet again, there was nothing the priest could do for his friend.

* * *

><p>Vash's eyelids fluttered open gradually, and as he grew more and more aware of where he was, he smelled the distinct odor of bacon. Immediately, his stomach grumbled, yearning for food. With a sigh, he sat up to find his brother seated at the table; the other man must've been waiting for him to wake up, for nothing had been touched.<p>

"Good morning again, Vash. I had breakfast prepared for us. Would you like to eat with me?"

After a moment of hesitation, the younger plant nodded.

"I'm glad. Let me help you get dressed."

Fetching a pair of gray pants from the dresser, Knives aided the blonde into the garment, and as he tied the drawstring below his navel, he remarked casually, "You've become quite thin. Perhaps you can start having one more meal or two than usual."

They strode to the table and sat down across from one another. Disinterestedly, Vash stared at the plate in front of him that had four strips of bacon, scrambled eggs, buttered toast, and two donuts on it. For as hungry as he was, he still couldn't muster up the desire to eat; the thought of it made him ill.

Taking note of the outlaw's lack of enthusiasm, Knives inquired, "What's wrong? I thought you'd enjoy this." Not receiving an answer, he decided to reach out to him telepathically. _"Vash, please open up to me."_

Keeping his gaze fixated on his plate, the blonde replied, _"I'm sorry for how I acted earlier, how I treated you. I'm sorry."_

"_It's alright, Vash. I'm not angry. Now, please eat."_

Another beat passed before he asked, _"Knives?"  
><em>

_"Yes?"_

"_Whatever happened with Project V?"_

"_Well…." _He poured them each a glass of orange juice and then continued. _"It was unsuccessful. I've been quite disappointed." _The last comment caused Vash to feel responsible, and therefore terrible, for his twin's displeasure since it was _his _seminal fluid that'd been used. _"It's something I will have to accept, I suppose. Breeding with you doesn't work. Injecting them didn't work. I'm at a loss. It seems impossible to reproduce another plant like us." _He snickered. _"I hate to admit it, but she was right." _

Vash lifted his head and stared at his brother puzzled.

"_We're miracles, Vash. We're the greatest beings to ever be created. And for all we know, we'll be the only ones."_

Containing the relief he felt from hearing there'd be no possibility of another Knives, Vash nodded dumbly and at last commenced picking at his food. He took incredibly small bites, and while Knives was finished within ten minutes, the gunman still had the majority of his breakfast left.

"Do you want me to stay with you today like we talked about last night?" Knives questioned kindly.

The Humanoid Typhoon blinked a few times before a coy smile swept across his countenance and he nodded.

"What would you like to do?"

Not wanting to be overly complicated – and being able to choose what to do for once instead of being forced meant everything in the world at this moment – he decided on something simple.

"Do you have a deck of cards?"

* * *

><p>"Whatdya got?"<p>

"Two pair."

"Full house. I win again!"

"How many times is that now?"

"Ten?"

Knives gathered up the cards and began shuffling the deck once more. Though he was on a horrible losing streak and never liked to lose, he smiled from the cheerful grin and beaming expression on his brother's face. All they'd done to pass the time so far was play various card games, and it seemed to be drastically improving Vash's spirits; he'd giggle every now and then and had even started to talk more. It was causing Knives' heart to swell with loving affection for his twin and gave him a sense of joy for knowing he was the reason for Vash's happiness.

"Another round?" he asked.

"Nah, I think I've beaten you enough for now," Vash stated cheerily.

"I agree."

"Thanks for playing with me, Knives."

Taking note of the genuine gratefulness shining through in the outlaw's eyes, Knives smiled. "Anything for you, dear brother. What would you like to do next?"

"You sure you don't have other things to do? I know this probably isn't how you'd really want to spend your day." Regardless of him enjoying the time they were sharing and wanting it to continue, he believed he wasn't at the top of Knives' list of important things; it'd been hammered into his mind many times that rather, he wasn't important enough for anyone. The fact that Knives was indulging him for the moment was like a special, wonderful fantasy.

"Vash, I promised the day to you. Everything else can wait. I love being with you."

The younger plant grinned and for once in what seemed like ages, he felt as if he meant something to someone other than just being a brutalized sex toy. "Okay….Is there anything you really need to do? I wouldn't mind tagging along." _As long as it's just the two of us…._

Without Vash vocalizing his thought, Knives knew it was implied.

"Or could we…."

"Yes?"

"Can I go see them?"

He didn't have to ask who the blonde meant. Nodding, he answered, "Of course."

* * *

><p>From a distance, Knives observed his twin look around at his sisters before taking a seat on the floor in the middle of them all. The atmosphere in the room changed significantly the moment Vash had stepped foot in the area. They were furious, and they blamed Knives; he could sense that quite clearly. He couldn't fault them for that; the incident was something he felt partly responsible for too, even if he <em>was <em>the one who ultimately saved the younger plant afterward.

Hanging his head and letting out a deep breath, Vash quaked and worked hard to hold back the tears as he remembered the last time he was in this place. He rubbed his stomach, chest, and the stump of his left arm while mentally reliving the inferno he'd been engulfed in. Just like before, the ethereal beings telepathically whispered his name and invisibly enveloped him in a devoted, sympathetic embrace. He felt their concern, marveled at their adoration, and feared their rage.

Hugging his knees to his chest, he addressed them all. _"It's okay….I'm okay….I'm not in any pain now…." _He hurriedly wiped away the few tears that escaped from his eyes. _"I'm scared. I feel an emptiness inside of me." _He briefly touched his face, his matted hair, and then his earlobe where the silver hoop used to be. _"I don't know who I am anymore. I really tried and now….there's no reason to fight. If she's looking down on me….she'd be so disappointed and disgusted with me because….if they die, I can't find it in me to care anymore. Why have I spent all of these years trying to save them, to never take another life, when they want nothing more than to see me suffer and die? Why do I have to be the only one to ever care?! Why do I have to be the only one to live by such principles when no one else gives a damn?! _

…_.I give up…._

_Can't you see, Rem? The world you wanted isn't possible. The world I tried to make for you isn't possible….Are their lives more important than mine?! Would you tell me I'm wrong and think less of me for wanting to kill them?! They've done things to me I can't even bring myself to say aloud, Rem!"_

He shivered as if cold, covered his face with his hand, and emitted a small whine while attempting to keep the tears at bay.

"_I don't want to be here anymore. I know it's selfish and wrong, but what else can I do? As the days go on, I fear I'll become more like him, and that's something I've never wanted to allow myself to be….I think he loves me….I used to be so sure, and now, I just feel so alone." _Sensing his sisters' anger shifting towards Knives, he quickly corrected himself. _"Please don't be mad at him. It's not his fault. And he loves you all and wishes to give you the freedom to exist outside of your containments; he would do anything for you…._" The recurring belief of him being kept alive for the main purpose of serving as a sexual release for his brother broke his heart as he added, _"I think you'll be very happy with him." _

As long as he was still with him, Knives would have no reason to treat any of them with harshness; he was the older plant's only outlet to pour all of his malice and pleasure into – always had been and always would be. His despair resonated with his sisters, and they all pressed their hands against their glass capsules as if trying to be nearer to him. Each one began radiating a light glow around them, illuminating the area like the rising suns. From the back of Vash's neck and his forearm, numerous crystal feathers sprouted. At the sight of them, Knives grew wary; if his brother's appearance and energy changed much more – putting him closer to the point of losing control – then he'd have to intervene and take him away. He knew it'd more than likely send Vash into hysterics, to be separated from them at this time, but he couldn't risk things getting out of hand.

_What's he saying to them? _he pondered intently. _Easy, Vash. I don't need them destroying anything yet. _The more he thought about it, the more jealous he became. _He _was the one with the most extreme and intimate connection to Vash, the one Vash should be confiding in and receiving comfort from. The others may be their sisters, but _he _was the one who shared the ultimate bond and love with the only other plant that was as powerful as he.

Vash glanced around, seeing their worried expressions, and offered a dismal smile. _"I think I'm ready to go. That doesn't mean I don't love you all or him, I just…." _He felt them understand and know what he meant. _"There's nothing more I can do. I'm ready for this all to be over, to fade away like it was nothing but a nightmare."_

He got up and ventured over to one of the nearest capsules. Resting his forehead against the glass, he placed his hand against it as well, and the action was mirrored by his sister.

"_I'm so sorry. He's done everything to help you, and I've done nothing. Please forgive me. It must seem like I'm on their side….I never wanted it to be that way….I just wanted everyone, plants and humans alike, to be happy. I guess I failed you, too, which is another reason to not be angry with him…." _

As the minutes ticked away, the plumage forming on the Humanoid Typhoon grew more plentiful; exquisite wings suddenly outstretched themselves from his back, and the air was astoundingly charged with the plants' abundant energy and emotions. Swiftly, Knives went to him, put his arms around the other man's waist – causing Vash to jump in surprise – and said quietly, "It's time to go."

The blonde predictably fought against him as Knives started to pull him away. "No! Stop! I want to stay! Let me go!"

"Vash, stop it. You're acting like a child."

"Let me go! I want to stay!" he repeated adamantly.

The vehement protest was riling their sisters, and Knives knew he either had to get Vash out of the room or sedate him and fast. "Vash, you're fine. It's alright." In the reflection of one of the glass capsules, Knives saw his brother's eyes turn to a solid, glowing blue color. _Damn it!_

"LET ME GO!" Vash bellowed, and his strength became almost enough to overcome Knives' hold on him. His cheeks and hand now had wisps of feathers on them as his energy rose exponentially.

"VASH!" Wrestling the outlaw onto the floor, Knives pinned him down, grabbed his face, and ordered, "CONTROL YOURSELF! CONTAIN IT!" In a gentler voice, he added, "Please, Vash. Come back to me."

With remarkable force, Vash knocked his twin to the side. "STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

Once he recovered from being thrown against the wall, Knives scrambled to his feet only to find the blonde glaring at him in a way he'd never witnessed before. The glowering gaze pierced him so intensely that he was unable to move or speak for a moment. This was a picture of the Vash he desired, the manner in which he craved his twin to behave with, yet now was not the time.

"Vash-"

The lights flickered, indicating the plants were indeed surging with more power, and Knives charged towards his twin. Perceiving it as a threat, Vash's arm began to take the shape of his most dangerous weapon.

"_Vash, don't!"_

Realizing his words weren't doing anything, Knives' own body started resembling that of his brother's as his abilities surfaced. He rotated his arm like he was throwing something at Vash, and from his seemingly empty hand, a barrage of blades surged forward. Instantly, Vash's wings enveloped him to shield him from the attack; they repelled the objects as if the daggers had simply hit solid brick. The second they unshrouded the wild plant, there was no time for him to react before Knives collided with him, sending them both crashing to the ground. All at once, swords rose up around them like bullets outlining a figure on a target, effectively preventing them from moving whatsoever; one pierced through the round orb of the still forming Angel Arm, making Vash shout in pain and anger.

Pushing the side of his hand against the younger twin's throat, Knives commanded, _"Stop. This. NOW. Do _not_ make me hurt you, little brother." _Receiving no reason to believe Vash was going to obey him, he decided to go the other route by softening his tone and said, _"I don't want to hurt you. I want to help you. Get ahold of yourself. You _can _control it; that's part of what makes us different from the others. Listen to me, Vash. Please. It will be alright. They aren't going anywhere, and neither am I. We are all here for you. Contain yourself. Please….Vash….Brother…."_

A lengthy period passed before Vash's arm began returning to normal; his wings disappeared, leaving just a handful of feathers floating down around him, and his eyes went back to their vivid shade of green. He gazed up at his brother, frightened and wholly alert, and didn't dare speak until the swords that encircled them melded with Knives and vanished.

Trembling as if scared beyond belief, his voice wavered too when he finally whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-I don't know what happened-please don't hurt me-I'm sorry, Knives-I-"

Lifting his twin up to embrace him tenderly and hold him close, Knives cooed, "My sweet, dear brother, it's alright. No need to be afraid." His wings enveloped the blonde like another set of arms as he doted kisses onto Vash's forehead and proceeded with murmuring assurances. "It's alright. Shhh….Don't cry. It's okay."

"But it's not….it's not okay."

"Why is that? What's wrong?"

"I'm losing her, Knives….I don't know who I am anymore," he admitted miserably.

"You're my loving, beautiful brother Vash. You may lose her, but you have me. Together, we'll make a wonderful life for us and our sisters. You'll always be mine, and I will love and protect you as I've always done. You're one of the most superior beings ever to exist. Vash…." Taking his twin's hand in his own, he smiled when the outlaw clutched it with his frail fingers. "It'll all be done soon."

As the minutes passed, the plants' agitation dwindled into contentment from witnessing the two of them like this; it was an image of serenity, and they sensed Knives' earnest adoration and devotion for his brother like never before.

"You feel cold," Knives suddenly commented worriedly. "Let me take you back to my room."

"No," Vash protested weakly. "I want to stay. Please."

"Not right now. Come on. I'll help you."

This time, the gunman didn't fight him. With the aid of his twin, he got to his feet, stumbled a few steps from experiencing a bout of dizziness, and permitted Knives to carry him the rest of the way. Once they returned to the older plant's quarters, Vash sat on the bed while his brother fetched a nice blanket.

Wrapping the quilt around the Humanoid Typhoon's emaciated frame, Knives took a seat beside him and said, "You're exhausted. You should rest."

"I'm fine," was the unconvincing reply.

"Nonsense, Vash. There is no reason to be stubborn." He stroked back the locks of hair that dangled down over the man's eyes and added, "You'll be safe here with me."

"Knives?"

"Yes?"

"Do you….Do you want to talk?"

"About what?"

Vash shrugged. "Anything."

"You can always talk to me about anything. I would hope you'd open up to me like you used to….What is it you're wanting to know? Or discuss? Or tell me?"

"Promise you won't be mad?"

"I promise."

"I'm glad Project V didn't work." He half-expected Knives to strike him for saying such a thing, but to his surprise, the other man merely sighed.

"I'm disappointed to hear that."

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

A minute passed before Vash decided to ask another question.

"Did you build this? The Ark?"

"I made a few alterations. It was intact, for the most part, when I found it. It was one of the original ships from the Seeds fleet. Our sisters have been trapped here for a long time; they're anxious to finally be liberated with the others."

There was a short pause. "I couldn't believe it when you brought me here, that you'd gone through with all of this…."

"Yes, it is quite impressive, isn't it? While you were off playing with humans and taking on the role of their savior, I was busy planning on how to best help our own kind."

Feeling embarrassment from that statement, Vash stayed quiet and rubbed the back of his neck as he thought of what to say next.

Another minute ticked by.

"Vash?"

"Hm?"

"How many times did you sleep with him?"

The outlaw sharply turned his head to look at his twin. _Where is this coming from and why? He doesn't seem angry…. _"We, um….I….three times, I think." He swallowed nervously, wondering what terrible reward his honesty would grace him with.

"Tell me about them."

"What?" he inquired with surprise.

"Tell me about them. I want to know how he had you. Describe it to me."

Searching the older plant's expression for any hidden ire, Vash found none; only grave seriousness was present. "Knives, I…." He blushed and glanced away.

"Tell me. I need to know."

"What more do you need to know? We had sex, okay? And now he's dead. Why does it matter?"

"What did he do with you? How did he have you?"

The blonde let out a deep breath and closed his eyes while the memories washed over him. Why did Knives care? Those instances had nothing to do with him; they were special moments that were meant only for the Humanoid Typhoon and the priest and not meant to be shared with anyone else. And Knives had already punished him and ridiculed him many times for doing it as well as even mentioning Wolfwood's name – did he just want a reason right now to beat or rape him?

Vash pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. Wasn't he supposed to forget the so-called "traitor?" Now he was being pushed to relive the most intimate memories – it broke his heart and made it beat faster with giddiness at the same time. He tried to conceal a smile as he remembered. Every single night they'd slept together, he'd always felt desired and valued. He'd yet to really experience that with his brother.

"I never expected things to go that far," he began softly. "It just….sorta happened one night. I couldn't tell him 'no' because it felt good; it felt right, like it was okay for us to do it. When he started touching me….kissing me…." He couldn't refrain from grinning as the warm emotion of love spread throughout his whole being. "….I hadn't been with anyone since you. And with him, I felt incredible. Practically every day since July, someone has hunted me or tried to kill me for the reward money. It was nice to have someone finally _want _to be near me, to not shoot at me or hurt me, to be touched like that and share my trust. He took me to the bed, got on top of me and….you can guess the rest."

"And the second time?"

"….I was on my hands and knees. He always waited for me to….adjust to him….It always turned out feeling so good." He shifted his legs a bit, attempting to hide the fact he was getting aroused; he didn't notice Knives was already completely hard too.

"The third time?"

"I did all the work," he divulged diffidently. "I, um….I sat on top of him."

"Did you ever go down on him?"

"Knives-"

"Vash."

The outlaw wondered if his twin was merely gathering information to use against him and shame him with, causing him to hesitate before at last answering, "For a little bit once."

Silence. The younger plant took this as a bad sign. He discreetly glanced at Knives every now and then to determine when the hit would come. He shook imperceptibly from the anticipation, preparing himself for how forceful the impact would be. Though he'd still never admit it, he'd truly grown to fear his brother. He'd been crushed into a state of total submission, and defying Knives was something he strived to never do anymore in order to keep the dehumanizing treatments to a minimum.

Without a word, Knives crawled behind the gunman, and instinctively, Vash cowered and clung to the blanket like a last resort of protection. Panic pulsed through him, tears sprang to his eyes, and his breathing grew shallow.

_God please….please don't let him do it. Please, someone…._

All of his treasured memories with his dearest friend seemed detestable and worthless now; Knives would see to it that he'd regret their relationship completely, he knew.

Leisurely, Knives parted the quilt and removed it from around Vash's thin frame as if taking off the man's shirt. The lack of anything covering his torso caused the blonde to quiver uncontrollably and blink furiously to clear his vision.

"No, please," he murmured pitifully. "Please, Knives. Don't do this." A tiny noise of dread came from him at the sensation of his twin's hands on his shoulders. It made him break down entirely. "No, no, please…." he cried helplessly, waiting for the moment Knives would shove him against the mattress and violate him. "I'm s-sorry….Forgive me….I'm sorry…."

"Vash," Knives spoke gently into his ear. "I love you. Please let me show you. Let me love every inch of you. Let me make you feel incredible again."

Turning around apprehensively to where he could stare directly into his brother's eyes, Vash searched for any shred of spite that might be lingering within them, yet he found nothing but sincerity. "Knives?"

"What is it?"

"You really mean that?"

"With all my heart."

"You're not mad at me?"

"No."

Letting the tears flow, Vash hugged the older plant and buried his face against his chest. It was shocking, how calm and understanding Knives was being; because of such, Vash was willing to do anything to keep it that way, to keep the positive attention going that he'd been receiving all day. He didn't want it to end, was terrified of being thrown back into the living nightmare that awaited him beyond this room. The safeness of Knives' embrace reminded him of those instances with Wolfwood, leading him to believe it was possible to regain that connection with someone again – he was suddenly overjoyed by the fact it was his own brother.

"I love you," he said with the intense emotion present in his voice, leaving no doubt to its truthfulness.

"I love you too."

Arriving at an unspoken agreement to pull away, they stared at one another for a time before Knives tentatively began leaning forward with the intent to kiss him. Anxiety was naturally Vash's response, though it dissipated quickly when he realized there was no reason to be scared now. Tilting his head, he met Knives halfway, let his lips linger briefly against his twin's, smiled at the tongue that flicked across them, and then kissed him deeply. Fingers caressed his cheek, ran through his hair, and he shyly moved his own down the other plant's torso to tease the man's erection. Knives emitted a low noise of satisfaction and was soon helping the gunman undo the button and zipper of his pants. With permission and access granted, Vash went to work on pleasuring him with his hand. He remembered just how Knives liked it and was almost proud of himself for making his twin have to break away more frequently in order to catch his breath.

Without warning, Vash was all at once swarmed by numerous images of the times when he'd been humiliated and defiled. He hurriedly withdrew his hand, pushed the older plant back, and mumbled apologetically, "I can't. I can't do this. I'm sorry."

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"I just can't. I'm sorry."

"Vash…." Putting his finger under the outlaw's chin to raise his head, he spoke gently, "Look at me." It was several seconds before Vash did so reluctantly. "We can take it slow. If ever you feel uncomfortable, we can stop. I'm asking you to allow me the opportunity to make love to you, Vash."

"You're not….How can you stand touching me?" he questioned shamefully.

"Because you're my brother. My beautiful-" He accompanied his next few words with a kiss in between each of them. "-dear. Sweet. Vash….Lay down."

Despite him still being uncertain of proceeding, Vash let Knives guide him to lie on his back, and while his mind screamed at him to get away, his heart and body were tied to Knives. For five minutes they did nothing but kiss one another eagerly and were unable to keep their hands to themselves. Every now and then, the older plant grinded against him, causing friction that had him moaning into the male's mouth.

_It's okay….It's okay to do this….It's okay that it feels good. _

Taking his time to savor seemingly every inch of bare skin, Knives began making his way down the outlaw's body. When he saw Vash cover his flushed face with his arm, he grinned and gently pulled it aside, saying, "Don't hide yourself away from me. You're exquisite. Every bit of you."

Vash's eyes glittered with delight, and he smiled shyly. He raised his hips in order to have his clothing taken off of him more easily and then watched as Knives removed all of his as well.

"Now," Knives purred seductively as he separated the blonde's legs and settled between them. "All you have to do is lie here and enjoy yourself."

He ran his hands along the inside of the man's thighs, slithered his tongue along the length of his brother's cock, and then at last took almost the entire member into his mouth.

"Oh god," Vash breathed, grabbing the sheets and fidgeting as ecstasy consumed him.

Knives was insatiable. He orally made love to his twin with such fervor that he was already tasting pre-cum and causing Vash to moan in a way he hadn't heard in a long time; it nearly sent him over the edge, listening to the outlaw's trembling vocals. Closing his eyes, Vash lost himself and willingly surrendered to whatever Knives chose to do to him. In this moment, the past assaults faded into nothingness. It was him and Knives. Right now. No one else, and nothing else existed other than the bond they shared with one another.

His toes curled as the male's tongue lapped at and encircled the head of his cock. He felt like he was losing control of his body and it was indescribable, the way pleasure coursed through him to seemingly every nerve in his being. When Knives returned to diligently sucking him, relentlessly so as if he knew it wouldn't be much longer before he climaxed, his uncontrollable moans grew louder.

"Knives," he forced out. "….I can't….nnnhh….ahh...I'm so close…."

"_Don't hold it back. It's alright. I want to taste you."_

Vash bit his lip, arched his back, and with permission given, he spilled himself in his brother's mouth seconds later. As he collapsed onto the mattress once more, Knives swallowed every last bit of the younger plant's semen, being sure to thoroughly clean him with his tongue. When he was done, he nibbled and licked his way up the man's body and showered Vash's face with affectionate kisses while he lay panting.

"How do you feel?" he asked, brushing his fingertips along the gunman's abs and chest.

The blonde swallowed, nodded, and replied, "Good….Really good."

"I'm pleased to hear that….And I'm still not done." He grinned at the stunned expression on his twin's countenance. "Turn over for me."

Somewhat frightened of what Knives was planning on doing, yet curious as well, Vash obeyed and was quickly submerged in a state of total relaxation as the older plant massaged his back. He sighed contently and frequently made sounds of gratification. It was everything he needed at the moment, to feel like he mattered and have someone put him both physically and mentally in a pleasant daze. He almost felt guilty for the pampering, yet it didn't bother him enough to have Knives quit.

"That's really nice," he murmured and smiled. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome."

"I think you might put me to sleep," he said with a light chuckle.

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Mmhmm."

Knives let his hands stray to rub the other plant's arm, shortly followed by caressing his legs; all the while, Vash kept his eyes closed and reveled in the touch. However, the moment Knives said, "Raise your hips," he began to panic.

"W-Why?" he asked cautiously.

"I want to try something with you. I promise I won't hurt you."

Warily, Vash did so by propping himself up as if getting on all fours. He couldn't see what his brother was intending to do, but he very soon felt it.

"Knives!" he gasped. "What are you doing?!"

"Relax."

The utter astonishment Vash had was making that command a little difficult; for as strange as it felt, though, it was unbelievably amazing and erotic. Knives' tongue glided along the curve of his ass, licking and teasing the entire area before venturing further. Not until Vash felt the slippery muscle dip between his cheeks and circle around his orifice did he again say his twin's name in shock.

"Knives! Why are you-….nnmph….why….uhhnn" He couldn't help himself from voicing the immense pleasure surging through him due to this new and extremely intimate act. It didn't take long at all for him to get hard again.

"_Like it?" _Knives inquired mischievously as he enthusiastically continued his exploration of the territory he'd never indulged with his mouth before.

Vash's hand balled into a fist, and he bit it in hopes of keeping quiet; he grew embarrassed at the thought of someone passing by outside the door and hearing him like this. _"So much. But you don't have to do this."_

"_I want to. I want you to know how much I love you." _

He refrained from admitting that he desired above all else to prove that he was better than Wolfwood and could please his twin in ways that the priest couldn't begin to compete with. He knew every inch of Vash's body, remembered every spot that – if touched in the right way – could bring the younger plant abundant ecstasy and get him trembling from undeniable rapture; now, he could confidently say he was the first to have the outlaw this way, making his head reel with lust as if he was taking his brother's virginity all over again. He nearly reached an orgasm just from that thought alone. Judging by Vash's noises and tensing muscles, it was clear he was on the verge too.

After kissing and tasting the area thoroughly, Knives stopped, straddled the Humanoid Typhoon's legs, smeared the pre-cum leaking from the tip of his cock onto his shaft, and began easing himself inside of the other man's body. Vash emitted a loud moan, causing Knives to echo it with his own. Hands firmly latched onto the sides of his waist to better hold him in place as the older plant pumped in and out of him steadily. From the mild pace and lack of brutality in which he'd been exposed to for so long, his heart swelled with indescribable admiration and attachment for his brother. This was how he'd always yearned for it to be like, to have it be this way every time – to have the void that Wolfwood had left within him filled by the only other person he loved just as strongly.

He belonged to Knives in every sense of the word.

"Knives," he whimpered and reached back to touch the man's arm. "Wait."

"What is it?"

"Lay down."

Knives didn't have to be told twice: his cock twitched with excitement from the anticipation of what the gunman was implying with those words. Before resting back, he snatched the bottle of lube from under the bed and coated his erection with a generous amount. Vash smiled nervously as he climbed atop his twin, prompting Knives to return the gesture. With great care, the outlaw eased himself down onto the man's cock. Both let out sounds of sheer bliss, and for a minute, Vash was still as he tried to catch his breath.

"You feel amazing," Knives said, his tone saturated with lust. "I'm eager to watch you."

The statements made Vash blush even more, and he gave a small laugh. "I hope I don't disappoint you."

"You won't, I assure you."

Beginning slowly as if he'd never done it before, Vash rocked back and forth and seemingly became quite more confident upon hearing Knives' moaning. He leaned forward to brace himself while starting to move his body up and down on his twin's hard shaft.

Closing his eyes briefly, Knives' head spun from the astounding sensations; he couldn't remember the last time his brother had fucked him this way. Whether it was because he felt like he was buried farther inside of Vash's body now or because he was observing the younger plant taking control like this, he found himself drowning in ecstasy like never before. He gazed at the outlaw's visage, noting the look of concentration and contentment in his expression – it was odd, the sudden urge to weep from how stunning his brother was.

Tufts of shimmering feathers began appearing on their cheeks, arms, and necks. Their energy was reaching a magnitude that made the electricity in the Ark flicker like it had when Vash was in the presence of his sisters.

With mouth open, breathing labored, and slightly shaking, Vash leaned back and moved his body in a way that resembled someone riding a mildly bucking bull. Knives immediately voiced his satisfaction, curled his toes, and practically squirmed underneath the gunman.

"Don't stop, Vash," he gasped helplessly. "More….ahh….hhhnnn…."

Minutes later, Vash tossed his head back and moaned one last time with his twin as Knives climaxed inside of him. He gradually stopped moving and soon discovered he didn't even have the energy to get off of the man, though Knives didn't appear to mind.

When he was almost able to breathe evenly once more, Vash covered his face with his hand. At the sound of him sniffling, Knives reached up to touch his cheek and asked with concern, "What's wrong?"

Receiving no answer, the older plant sat up, brushed the sweaty strands of hair back that dangled in front of the outlaw's face, and gently pulled Vash's arm away.

"What's wrong?" he repeated. "Why are you crying?"

The blonde shrugged. "I don't….I just…."

Wrapping his arms around the trembling man, Knives held him tenderly and whispered, "It's alright. I understand. It's alright."

"I love you, Knives," he managed to say through his tears.

"I love you too, Vash. I've always loved you….We're all we need."

The remaining plumage on their bodies drifted down onto the sheets and then disappeared altogether. Lifting Vash off of his member, Knives laid back and brought the younger plant down to rest on top of him. Vash nuzzled his face against his twin's chest before sighing heavily and closing his eyes.

_Please let this last. I don't want to go back….I want to stay like this, here with him….He'll keep me safe….He truly cares…._

As fingers danced along his skin and stroked his hair, he fell asleep with his lips quirked upward into a minute, sweet smile.


	19. Mind Games

**A/N: **It's been awhile! Hope you're all doing well. I'm hanging in there. Not a very long chapter, so I apologize for that. Much thanks to **wolf-akuma **for your review! Makes me smile every time. :) And much thanks to my supportive beta and friend, **ClanRedLady.**

Feedback is always appreciated and welcomed. :D

* * *

><p>Finding himself alone with Knives was something Wolfwood never pictured happening, unless it involved him killing the cruel bastard. In fact, it made him rather nervous. He was weaponless and had no ally to help him if things went bad except for Vash, who was sleeping soundly on the bed nearby; even so, the outlaw wouldn't be the backup he used to be, nor would he have the energy or seemingly the courage to oppose Knives like he'd once had. As the preacher began picking at the bountiful meal on the table in front of the two of them, he rarely let his gaze stray from the icy one that pierced him frequently.<p>

After several minutes of them eating in silence, Knives finally began speaking.

"I owe my sincerest gratitude to you for executing Chapel," he commented quietly as to not wake his brother.

"It was my pleasure and honor, Master." It was very difficult to act like such a humble follower, but Wolfwood was determined to make it as believable as possible; his life depended on it, and for all he knew, Vash's did too.

"It's been quite entertaining to see him wallow in grief over it, though such a disappointment that he was foolish enough to grow an attachment to that traitor."

Wolfwood swallowed hard and his heart sped up from both pity and happiness as a result of those words.

"Livio has been my favorite for awhile. He has served me well, and I see that my trust in him hasn't been misplaced by him bringing you aboard. It's why I've asked you here now. I am in need of your services, so to say."

"I'm here to serve in whatever ways I can."

"I need you to tend to my brother."

_That _certainly wasn't what the priest was expecting. He didn't have to ask Knives to elaborate, for the other man continued on casually.

"I still sense a resilience within him, a resistance that must be eliminated. For the most part, he has submitted. However, there is still a thread of defiance that needs severed in order to end the internal struggle he stubbornly continues to maintain, to snuff out his compassion for humans and surrender to me."

The statements were causing Wolfwood to feel queasy and angry, yet he retained a stoic expression.

"I need him to be pushed just a little bit farther, to guarantee he knows and wholeheartedly believes that he has no one but me. He has to realize this and feel it so strongly that nothing can persuade him otherwise. I need him to rely solely on me, cling to me, trust no one other than me. This is where you and Livio come in."

Wolfwood quirked an eyebrow, confused about just what it was the man wanted.

"In order to ensure he obeys me, I need every last remnant of the woman who brainwashed him erased. I trust and favor you and Livio above any of my men. That is why I'm putting you two in charge of overseeing regular treatment sessions."

The preacher's heart sank, and he was on the verge of throwing up.

"As we're traveling from destination to destination, eight to ten hours a day should be sufficient. The two of you can work out some sort of schedule. I will alert the men that they are to only have contact with him during your supervised sessions. The only rules you must adhere to are that he must remain alive, and there can be no removal of any of his appendages. He's already repulsively scarred, so I'm not too concerned with him garnering new ones, but refrain from giving him permanent damage like amputation. And it should go without saying that if there's another incident of him being set on fire, I will skin, gut, and string each and every one of you up after having my own fun."

There was a pause as Knives took a sip of his wine and regarded Wolfwood for a moment with a small grin. The priest almost thought he should say something, yet kept his mouth shut; he didn't dare risk blurting out something he'd regret.

"While they have limited time with him," Knives went on, "it would be my pleasure to extend free reign to you and Livio whenever certain needs arise. You see, Vash is like a prize. He's very precious to me, the most important thing in my life. However, I also know it is important to show gratitude and reward those who have served me well." He reached down to pick something up off the floor, and the clergyman was aghast when Knives handed him a small bottle of lube. "You and Livio have proven yourselves more than worthy enough for me to share my most exquisite possession. Therefore, whenever you are in need of 'release' in one way or another, you may use him. I can only imagine how difficult it is for you humans to be without an easy outlet for so long, like a wife or common whore, so I'm extending the offer of using him for such a thing to you two."

It took every ounce of self-control Wolfwood possessed to keep himself from lunging across the table and strangling the homicidal plant. Just as he was about to respond, a scared and almost child-like voice called out, "Knives?!"

Both men looked toward the source and saw Vash sitting up. He appeared terribly shaken and trembled as he covered his face with his hand. Quickly, Knives was on his feet and hurrying to his twin, taking a seat on the bed in front of him and enveloping him in a comforting hug.

"Shhh, it's alright, Vash," he cooed. "Did you have a bad dream?"

The blonde nodded and moved his arm to wrap around his brother's waist.

"There, there….You're alright."

As Wolfwood watched the tender display of affection Knives was doting on Vash, he grew more and more angry. He wasn't sure who he was more upset and disgusted with – the once strong and abled Humanoid Typhoon or his devilish twin.

_How can you be so blind, Vash?! _he seethed. _How can you sit there and believe this ridiculous act he's putting on for you?! Do you forget what he's done to you?! I can't believe you'd be this stupid! this dependent on someone! Spikey….you have to have _some _sort of ability to think still….Snap out of it, for god's sakes! Please….Vash…._

"You weren't here, where did you go?" Vash cried softly. "Don't leave me alone. Please."

"No need to worry. I'm here now. It's okay."

There'd been a time when Wolfwood was the only person Vash had to rely on and be there for him whenever his emotions got the better of him; it'd been the two of them for so long, and with the more than friendly feelings the priest now had for the outlaw thrown into the mix, he found himself unwilling to let go of that connection so easily. He never fathomed Vash could be beaten into submission quite like he had been, didn't realize just how ruthless and cold Knives could be to his own brother to make him this way. He was jealous, sickened, and saddened all at the same time. Even if the gunman was nothing like he used to be, Wolfwood still wanted him to be his and _only _his – friend, companion, and above all else, his lover.

As he observed the Master's fingers running through Vash's hair and his mouth traveling along the younger plant's jawline, an overwhelming urge to prove he was better than Knives erupted inside of him. A tiny grin tugged at the edges of his lips as he thought about the reaction Knives would have as a result of Vash choosing _him_ to be with instead.

"I'm going to have John here escort you back to your room," Knives said after a few minutes, snapping Wolfwood out of his thoughts at the mention of his name.

Vash pulled away, and his frenzied eyes stared into his twin's calm ones. "I want to stay here with you. One more night. Please don't make me go."

"You'll be alright. He and Livio will be your caretakers while I'm busy with preparations."

The outlaw's green eyes widened in fear even more at the prospect of his twin leaving him with others. "Kn-Knives, please," he whispered desperately. "Please, no."

"John."

Taking that as his cue, Wolfwood got up, went to the bed, and grabbed Vash's arm. Wildly, the blonde flailed about, frantically trying to latch onto his brother. As he was dragged toward the door, he started repeatedly screaming Knives' name. The older plant didn't seem phased by this; rather, he merely smiled.

Once out in the hallway, Wolfwood was surprised by the continued struggle Vash was giving; he actually had to exert himself to keep the Humanoid Typhoon from returning to his twin.

"Knock it off," he grumbled. "You'll be fine without him."

The words did nothing to pacify the hysteric prisoner.

"Stop it."

After another minute of Vash fighting against him, Wolfwood finally lost it.

"ENOUGH!"

He flung the blonde to the floor, sat atop him, and closed his hands around his throat. Vash's eyes lit up with alarm, and instead of attempting to free himself, he went entirely still. In silence, the preacher looked at him furiously.

_How dare you cry for your brother like some defenseless baby wailing for its mother! A brother that does nothing but confine you to an insufferable Hell!_ _Can you seriously ignore it all?! All of it?! _he thought heatedly, somehow able to keep from yelling the questions at Vash. _You'd go back to him without hesitation?! Am I so easily forgotten?! Did what we have mean so little to you that you've let Knives take it away and let him replace me?! _

His grip tightened, causing the gunman to gasp for air.

_You just lay there and take it! What is wrong with you?! I'm doing this for you! I came here for _you!

A lengthy moment passed before Wolfwood finally released his hold and helped Vash to his feet. With head down, the Humanoid Typhoon walked alongside the priest and didn't make a sound. When they arrived at his room, Livio was standing in front of the door with several other men. The former assassin gave his partner an apologetic look, and Vash instinctively clutched the back of Wolfwood's vest as he hid behind him.

"Aha! There he is! Bout time you came back with him," Ben greeted.

"Yeah, Master's done with him for now," Wolfwood explained simply. "Going to let him rest up a bit."

Some of them snickered while another said, "Yeah right. You're just gonna keep the fun to yourself."

"No no," the preacher chuckled. "I don't need to."

"Have you even fucked him once? I don't remember seeing you around when Master was kind enough to let us have that free pass."

There were mumbles of agreement, followed by comments such as, "Go do it now!" "It's like having a virgin!" "You won't regret it!" "Show him his place." "You'll get such a kick out of seeing him like a sniveling little bitch." "Not many people can say they fucked The Sixty Billion Double-Dollar Man!"

There wasn't a chance to protest; the group was ushering Wolfwood and the Master's brother into the room, shut the door, and proceeded to whoop and holler from outside.

"Shit," the preacher muttered under his breath, turning to stare at the blonde behind him, and sighed from witnessing the plant's obvious dread.

As Wolfwood stepped toward him, Vash quivered uncontrollably and shook his head. "No," he whispered. "Stay away."

Wolfwood rubbed his face, trying to inwardly prepare himself for what he apparently had to do. If he could just immerse himself in his role of Knives' obedient follower "John," play it out to its fullest to where he became that person entirely for the time being, then maybe it'd help save him some of the heartbreak.

"Get on the bed," he ordered quietly.

The outlaw again shook his head, keeping his gaze fixated on the floor.

"Don't make this harder on yourself than it needs to be. Get on the bed and just do as you're told."

This wasn't Vash. This scared, fragile person wasn't Vash. He resembled him in appearance, albeit much more emaciated and haggard, yet this wasn't the infamous criminal Wolfwood had known. Whereas the old Vash would be calculating a plan of escape or doing his best to talk his way out of the situation, this man was on the verge of tears as he shuffled to the bed and laid on it. Stretching out above him, Wolfwood inhaled deeply while mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do. He stared down at the blonde as coldly as he could manage; the way Vash gazed at him in turn with such misery and shame was pitiful, and he soon felt angry for the pathetic look on the man's visage, couldn't stand it.

Abruptly, Wolfwood powerfully slapped him. There wasn't much of a reaction other than a small noise of pain, and the priest was grateful that Vash kept his head turned away.

"I'll try and make this quick," he stated, letting his hands begin to run up and down the plant's torso. Touching the marred flesh like this again brought up past memories, causing his eyes to glass over with tears and his cock to harden. The instant he leaned down to put his lips against the pale skin, he nearly lost it. So many days and nights since they went their separate ways, he'd dwelled on the times when he and Vash had slept with one another; finally, here they were again. Together.

He knew it was unforgivable, the act he was about to commit, and he almost confessed his identity just to make himself feel better about doing it, which would hopefully make Vash feel better too. But he couldn't risk it. And besides, from what Luida had said, he'd be able to tell the outlaw the truth very soon….if Vash could just hang on a bit longer….

_It's me, Spikey. It's okay…._

The fingers sliding along his stomach and the mouth suckling on his neck made Vash uneasy. He squirmed under the man and whispered, "Stop. Don't do this." In order to silence him, Wolfwood kissed him heatedly. The contact sent him reeling, remembering the first time he'd ever tasted the blonde's lips, and he moaned with pleasure. His stomach was filled with a swarm of butterflies, and his heart surged with intense emotion. The opposite could be said for Vash; he felt queasy and absolutely crushed. He fell into the same memory, however it wasn't a welcomed thing like it was for the priest due to the belief that this person wasn't Wolfy.

_It doesn't make sense. He feels just like you…. _A tear escaped the corner of his eye. _It's not fair. You'll never be here with me again….I promised I'd never forget you! Stop making him remind me of you!...I think I'm going insane, Nick….Please help me…._

Reaching down to stroke the outlaw's semi-hard cock, Wolfwood discovered it was the one place Vash had seemingly declared off limits to anyone, for he attempted to push the preacher's fingers away. Instead of stopping, the clergyman pinned the plant's arm above his head and continued fondling him with his free hand.

"Stop….Please…." Vash breathed in-between the man's vehement kisses. He couldn't prevent the noises of bliss that came from him at the stimulation of his cock, and he detested himself for giving signs of ecstasy.

_Just try to enjoy it, Spikey, _Wolfwood thought. _Pretend it's 'Wolfy' or something. Please make this easier for both of us._

Pulling away at last to stare into the outlaw's eyes, he couldn't bear the devastation and humiliation shining through in them.

"Turn over," he commanded.

As Vash complied, Wolfwood tugged down his clothing and slicked his erection with lube from the bottle Knives had given him. When he returned his attention to the gunman, he paused for a moment at the sight. He hadn't ever took much notice of the plant's back since arriving on the Ark, and now with him lying like this before him, he was appalled by the long and painful looking gash that stretched from his shoulder to his hip.

_Knives, _he mused irately.

Fingertips brushed along the jagged scar, sending a shiver down Vash's spine as they traveled against the entire length of it.

"Courtesy of my Master?" Wolfwood questioned faintly.

Vash nodded.

"Does it still hurt?"

"Sometimes," was the tiny reply.

"I see…."

Leisurely, the preacher kissed the healed injury inch by inch, while tears of heartbreak and rage welled within his eyes. Resting his forehead on his arm, the blonde wept quietly. This game of hot and cold, violence and love, cruelty and affection was driving him mad. He couldn't keep up with it, the changes in treatment; his mind was utterly confused and perpetually warped to the point that it was difficult to process which was which. No matter what he did, it always seemed to garner the same negative response; but somehow, on occasion, he would get the opposite – something positive and caring. There was no way of telling when and what would cause him to receive the latter. He was helpless and wholly reliant on the whims of everyone else, could only pray that the next person would follow this cycle in order to get the small doses of tenderness and warmth he desperately craved and needed to survive.

As he finished his soothing of Vash's wound, Wolfwood guided his cock into the plant's body. The outlaw grimaced and his muscles stiffened; quiet sounds filtered out of his open mouth, mixing with the low moans of the priest to assault his ears. He hated listening to himself like this, but he couldn't refrain from voicing his unwanted pleasure.

_It's like it's you having me this way again, _he reflected dejectedly. _He moves just like you….His body feels just like yours….It's not fair…._

The sensation of being inside Vash once more nearly sent Wolfwood over the edge seconds after entering him. It'd been so long since they were connected like this; at last, he had his friend to caress and make love to – something he thought he'd never get to experience again.

_You feel even better than I remember, Vash…._

The commotion outside the door faded; he couldn't hear anything other than the noises Vash made, which were just as beautiful and arousing as he remembered. He had no idea tears were pouring from the other man's closed eyes, nor did he realize how much the blonde's heart was shattering from having the person whom he believed killed his dearest friend feel exactly like his lost love in every way.

"Wolfy," he choked out in little more than a whisper. _I'm sorry._

Hands firmly gripped his waist, the thrusts became increasingly faster and rougher, and he couldn't stop himself from moaning uncontrollably. It wasn't fair that this person could make him react just like he did whenever he let Wolfy have him….

"Ahhh…." Wolfwood sighed as he climaxed a few minutes later. He went still as he emptied himself inside of Vash and began petting the man's hair. The action was simple, yet it was too sensual in Vash's opinion; as tempting as it was to rip the person's hand away, he just didn't have the strength to do so. He let out a shuddering breath and yearned to be back in his brother's protective arms.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Wolfwood asked slightly breathlessly. What he desired to say more than anything else were words of assurance and love, yet he caught himself before he did.

At last, he pulled out, got off of the outlaw, fixed his clothing, and sighed. Vash didn't move whatsoever.

_I'm sorry, Spikey….I hope someday you can forgive me…._

Reluctantly, the priest quietly left, and at the sound of someone else coming in and closing the door behind him, Vash still didn't stir.

There was a period of silence before the blonde finally questioned, "You here to fuck me too?" His tone was dripping with defeat.

Livio let out a breath, nodded, and answered softly, "Yes, I am….I really don't want to hurt you."

Slowly, Vash turned over, sat up, and offered a sad smile. "Sure…."

"I understand why that'd be hard to believe."

The plant shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

"They found out I hadn't done anything to you yet, so….But I made a promise, remember? I'll try and be gentle, if that makes a difference."

Closing his eyes, Vash started laughing to himself; Livio thought he'd completely snapped. When the laughter blended with sudden crying, he took it as a breakdown instead.

"I'm happy," Vash explained after a moment. "I'm so happy." He gazed at Livio, who was regarding him with total confusion. "Wolfwood's dead. He won't ever know what I've done, what I've become. Look at me….He'll never have to see me like this….He's at peace, he's okay. He won't ever know…."

Noting the worthlessness and despair written on the outlaw's countenance, Livio sat down on the bed in front of him and stated sincerely, "He wouldn't care. He loved you."

The blonde shook his head. "Don't say that."

"It's true. You were the last thing he ever thought of before he died." He hesitated and then added, "I'm sure if he were alive, he'd do anything to save you and would always be there for you."

Vash smeared the tear tracks on his cheeks with his hand, let out a shaky breath, and said, "He was supposed to wait for me….He left me….I'm the reason he's dead…."

Livio opened his mouth to speak, but found he really had nothing to respond with; it was safe to assume there wasn't anything he could say that would change the way Vash felt.

Silence settled between them until several minutes later, the gunman inquired, "Do you need me to help you out?"

The former assassin was about to ask for clarification, however, he got it from the manner in which Vash was now staring at him. As much as he regretted it, he knew it would be very difficult to get hard by his hand alone and quickly. He undid his belt, button, and zipper, pushed down his boxers to expose his cock, and glanced at the plant. The Humanoid Typhoon didn't seem phased at all as he wrapped his fingers around the shaft and started moving his hand up and down at a steady pace. After a minute or so, Livio met Vash's deadened gaze, brought a hand to gently caress the man's cheek, and kissed him. There was no opposition as the outlaw let him savor his mouth; he knew better than to put up a fight now.

_Just pretend it's some gorgeous blonde chick from the saloon, _Livio repeated to himself. This could be over much faster if he was able to maintain an attractive, arousing image in his head.

It was Vash who made the next move, lying on his back and pulling the servant down with him. The only good thing about this situation he could think of was that Livio at least genuinely seemed to not want to hurt him.

"I don't have any-" Livio began, yet stopped abruptly as Vash picked up an almost empty bottle of lubricant from the floor next to the bed.

"Some leave theirs for the next time they come," was the frank response.

Livio stared at him with astonishment. He couldn't believe how nonchalant the outlaw was being, especially when the statement implied this sort of thing happened more often than he and Wolfwood thought. Did he care anymore about what happened to him? Was this what acceptance looked like?

While Livio got ready, Vash turned his head to focus on the opposite wall. He winced from being penetrated and concentrated on keeping quiet. It never got easier, never felt less humiliating, but he'd learned that this is simply how it was now – this is what his purpose was now. He was a need fulfiller, no matter the nature of it.

_It's okay, _he tried to console himself. _Knives will be the only one I have to do this for soon….It'll be just us….It'll be Eden….right?_

In order to preserve the fantasy in his mind, Livio didn't touch the plant's body; the scarred flesh and metal would no doubt make him lose the image he'd concocted. The soft moans and heavy breathing helped perpetuate the illusion.

He slammed into Vash's body, his thrusts becoming more urgent and powerful as he came closer to orgasm. It was nearly five minutes before he was able to climax. As he spilled himself inside of the outlaw, he leaned down to whisper sincerely into his ear, "I'm sorry."

The blonde closed his eyes, letting two tears fall to the bedsheet. There was no other reaction, no words, nothing. After Livio pulled out and adjusted himself, he observed the gunman for a short period. It was shocking and unbelievably sad what the infamous Vash the Stampede, sixty billion double-dollar man, had been reduced to. Livio could've never envisioned it on his own, the way the Humanoid Typhoon looked and acted like now, had to witness it himself to believe it.

_This was the enemy. This was who I was made to hate and yearned to kill, _he reflected somewhat guiltily. _This was the kind of treatment I would've been laughing at and enjoying to see him go through. _

Ever since Wolfwood had given him a second chance and redemption, he felt like his heart was on overdrive. Emotions other than anger and loathing were still something he was getting used to. Staring at the naked, devastated, abused man in front of him, he really wished he'd never get accustomed to them.

"Vash…." He wanted so much to confess everything to him, to tell him it'd all be over soon, yet he wondered if it'd make a difference. Vash already seemed too far gone, beyond repair.

Taking a deep breath, the former assassin got up and left the room. The group of men greeted him with congratulatory pats on the back and applause. Some made derogatory comments about their Master's brother, to which the others laughed, and Livio faked a chuckle. He watched with a heavy heart as two of them went in to the room and slammed the door.

In just hours, he and Wolfwood were supposed to begin Vash's "treatment sessions." He was at a complete loss on how they were going to be able to get through them without one, or both, of them blowing their cover by showing compassion.

* * *

><p>There were four other men present with Livio in the Torture Den, Wolfwood not being one of them; the two had agreed, for the preacher's sanity, that Livio would handle the majority of these meetings.<p>

As Vash stumbled in after two servants, one of whom was roughly tugging on his leash, Livio took a deep breath. There were numerous fresh bruises on the plant that hadn't been present when he'd last seen him seven hours ago, and he walked with a noticeable limp.

"Here he is," Nathan announced, shoving the outlaw forward to stand in front of Legato and Livio.

While Vash's face was devoid of expression, it didn't make it any less difficult for his unknown ally to deal with – Livio could sense the anxiety and fear lingering underneath the surface.

Turning away, he closed his eyes to briefly retreat into his own head. _"I can't do this. I'm turning this over to you."_

"_It's about time. I knew you'd be calling on me eventually. I've been getting bored."_

When the man spun around a minute later, the servants raucously cheered and Vash went pale.

Donning a twisted grin, Razlo cackled, "Nice to finally meet you. Let's play, _Vash the Stampede_."


	20. Fall Apart

**A/N: **Has it really been since May since I last updated?! Time flies. I'm sorry it took so long. It's getting harder and harder to write. :/ The faves, follows, and reviews really do help keep my spirits up, though, and I sincerely appreciate all of it. :) **acedickgrayson, 0ayumi0, **and as always **wolf-akuma** - thank you all for your kind words and feedback! Shoutouts also to my awesome beta, **ClanRedLady **for looking it over for me.

I may have some new Trigun stuff posted before the end of the month, but there probably won't be another update on this one until next year (because it's just right around the corner!), so I wish you all happy holidays and happy new year! I hope you all continue to keep reading and enjoying this story because I truly do love sharing it with you (as sad and terrible as it may be at times :) )

* * *

><p>There is nothing like pure, irrepressible fear. The brain becomes illogical, and the body has no choice but to respond accordingly. The heart beats abnormally quickly. Adrenaline pumps through the veins. There is trembling, sweating, crying – it can reduce the strongest of men to resort to shamelessly begging. But it's what is present and shining through in a person's eyes that paints the truest picture of terror.<p>

It was the absolute best thing in the world for Razlo, to witness a person succumb to this. Nothing could top it, except seeing it happen to the planet's most infamous public enemy.

The moment he heard the water sloshing in the buckets, Vash became petrified. The servants teased him by acting like they were ready to pour it on him, yet always stopped at the last second; his recently developed and overwhelming phobia was incredibly entertaining to them. The fake-outs went on for several minutes, and despite knowing they would do it soon enough, he still couldn't prepare himself for it. When they finally decided to follow through, it was just like the last time: a damp cloth was stuffed into his mouth and a second one was draped over his face. Two of the men held him down, while another slowly started to dump the water. Once ten seconds had passed, they let go of him to allow the fourth servant the opportunity to implement the taser previously used on him. The electrocution would last five to ten seconds before the simulated drowning commenced again. The treatments were repeated multiple times with Razlo simply watching the torture like an excited child, laughing delightedly at the futile struggle and involuntary spasms of their victim.

"Isn't this fun?" he cackled. "I know I'm having a good time."

After four buckets, they decided to move on to something different. Vash seemed to be weaving in and out of consciousness; however, as soon as he heard the distinct sound of a match being struck, he was fully alert.

"No no," he pleaded breathlessly, uncontrollable tears rolling down his cheeks. "Not again. Please."

His words merely earned him amused laughter. The servants proceeded to light cigarette after cigarette in order to extinguish them on various places of his body. A pitiful wail escaped him every now and then, yet it wasn't merely because of the pain – it was from sheer terror at the possibility of being engulfed by fire all over again.

It was everything Razlo ever wanted. He grinned maliciously, his eyes alight with violent lust, and contemplated what other wonderful things they could do before the session came to a close.

* * *

><p>Soon after Razlo relinquished control back to Livio, the former Gung-Ho Gun returned to the room they'd left the Master's brother in. It'd been two hours since the "treatment"; he didn't ask or care to hear the details on what took place during it, though he knew it must've been quite the show from the excitement contained in Razlo's voice when he went back to his passive role.<p>

He expected the hostage to be either asleep or unconscious, which seemed to be the case as he entered the area. On the far end of the room near the Hole, Vash was lying on the floor on his left side and facing the wall. He'd been hogtied, keeping his right arm held behind his back by the rope secured around his wrist and ankles and leaving him in a very uncomfortable pose. Numerous candles were placed in a semi-circle around him, close enough to where he could clearly feel the heat radiating from the flames. He did his best to remain as still as possible, fearing the smallest amount of motion would knock any one of them over and set fire to his body. There'd be no rest for him; he was determined to stay awake in order to remain aware of his movements, as tiny as they may be considering the bondage position he was in. The panic he had at the thought of rolling over in his sleep did a good job of keeping his eyes open, despite how exhausted he was.

At the sound of his footsteps, Livio saw the plant visibly stiffen.

"Vash," he spoke gently in hopes of alleviating his dread. "It's me. It's Livio." He knelt down and fumbled in his mind over what to say next.

"Is he gone?" Vash suddenly asked in a tiny, frightened voice. "Is it just you?"

"Yes. Just me."

"How long has he been with you?"

"Quite some time….I first met him when I was a kid. I'm sorry I had to let him take over."

A minute ticked by with Livio struggling to come up with words that could possibly assure him or for an excuse as to why he was lingering here with him. Nevertheless, Vash again was the one to take charge by being the one to end the silence.

"Was it you or Razlo who helped John kill Wolfwood?"

There was no real right or wrong answer, though Livio knew the answer that would hopefully convince the plant that he wasn't so terrible and therefore could be trusted more than the others. "Razlo." He could sense the grieving tears adorning the Humanoid Typhoon's face without even being able to see them, causing him to once more loathe the fact that he was becoming less and less of the callous person he'd once been.

After being on the receiving end of Razlo's mercilessness, Vash's heart was torn apart at the thought of the countless and possible atrocities that that maniac and John had put his dear friend through before ever gutting and beheading him. "I really miss him," he whispered.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"I miss you, Wolfy." His breath hitched multiples times as he started to weep uncontrollably. "I wish I could be with you. I don't want to be here alone anymore. I'm so tired. Why can't it be over? I just want it to end…."

It was obvious the outlaw wasn't holding a conversation with Livio anymore, and the former assassin found himself both intrigued and saddened by the sudden breakdown.

"I can't do it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I let you down….I hope you didn't bet too much on me," he laughed in spite of his tears. "Is gambling allowed when you're a priest? Then again, you were never a normal priest. You were so much more….I thought I was protecting you. Why didn't I listen to you? Maybe then, none of this would've happened. You wouldn't be dead and….I wouldn't….They wouldn't…." It was a number of seconds before he added, "I love you, Nick. I'll never stop, no matter what he says or does to me. He doesn't understand….I love you…."

If Wolfwood had been the one to be in the room instead, Livio believed he would've no doubt come clean with everything – which would more than likely be a welcomed blessing to Vash, but could also put them all in grave jeopardy should someone be unknowingly listening or Vash suddenly started acting differently around his brother. However, he felt compelled to say _something _promising after hearing the affectionate, one-sided conversation.

"Vash….Just hang in there. It'll be alright."

A mix of laughter and crying sounded from the outlaw. "Sure."

Heaving a sigh, Livio stood up and headed for the door. As he left he faintly heard the man begin to sing softly to himself through his tears.

"….Sound life…."

* * *

><p>The wind was particularly strong today, causing numerous tumbleweeds to roll through the empty streets; they accented the fact that there was absolutely no other moving thing around except for stray rodents scurrying about the abandoned city. Something was amiss. Everyone was gone. There were no humans whatsoever.<p>

While a group of his men worked to free the two plants from their secured bases at the north end of the city, Knives stood at the southern part of it and surveyed the deserted place. The disappointment was written on his face; he was itching for chaos and slaughter. It'd been too long since the last carnage. Had the inferior race finally grown wise and run for their worthless lives?

"You're unhappy, Master," Legato commented with concern. "Is it possible he may have somehow warned them of your approach beforehand?"

The suggestion made Knives smirk. Though he doubted Vash's capability of alerting the city's population to his arrival, it did grant him an excuse to toy with his mind and, at the very least, take out his aggression on _someone _like he'd been looking forward to doing. "I'll have to ask him," he said with a twisted grin. "I'm sure news has traveled of what we're accomplishing. They're afraid and preparing for the end. December is the last of the major cities left; I assume anyone that's left has fled there for shelter and protection. Once we deliver these, we'll strike there next."

"Excellent."

Strolling towards the Ark, Knives asked in a pleasant tone, "Would you care to assist me in dealing with my brother's insubordination?"

* * *

><p>When Knives entered the designated room for punishment, there was currently a "session" already taking place. Vash was dangling by his wrist that was cuffed to a chain hanging from the ceiling; his toes barely brushed against the floor – just enough to help keep him in place instead of swinging back and forth as two men took turns punching and kicking him. With Legato trailing in after him, Knives strode closer to the group; upon spotting their revered leader, the servants bowed, and Razlo hurried over to greet him.<p>

"It is certainly a pleasure to see you again, Trip of Death," Knives said warmly. At the sound of his voice, Vash lifted his head and was tremendously relieved to find his brother.

"As is seeing you, Master. It's an honor."

"Livio was generous enough to let you in on the fun too?"

"Yes. It's been wonderful."

"I apologize for interrupting, but I have some business I need to tend to with him. Would you mind leaving us alone?"

"Not at all. Let's go, boys."

As Razlo and the two others left, Knives turned his attention to his twin and approached him slowly. The thankfulness the younger plant originally felt from having his brother here rapidly dissipated as he surveyed the cold expression on his face.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Knives questioned evenly.

Vash's eyes widened, and his heart seemed to skip a beat. "What are you talking about?" he countered weakly. "Knives-" The rest of the sentence was cut off by the powerful slap delivered to his left cheek.

"They were gone. They were all gone. There wasn't a single soul in that city. Now how would they have known we were coming there next? Someone had to have tipped them off."

Despite not having any idea what the allegations were about, the outlaw was steadily growing more worried that he actually _had_ done something wrong. "It wasn't me, I swear."

"There isn't anyone else that sympathizes and loves humans here, Vash!"

"I didn't do anything! You have to believe me!"

"Then who would it have been, hm? Tell me. Who else would've done it?"

"I don't know…."

"Because it was you."

"No! It wasn't me!"

"Then give me a name and I'll go get them to take your place."

Regardless of all the unspeakable things Knives' men had done to him, he couldn't bear the thought of one of them actually being totally innocent in this matter and enduring the wrath of his twin because of him. "I don't know," he whispered. "I really don't know. I'm sorry."

"Lying to me is never a good thing, dear brother. I'd never lie to you; I expect the same in return."

"It wasn't me, I swear. I don't know who it'd be. You have to believe me, Knives. Please."

There was a period of silence as they regarded one another – Vash's eyes couldn't hide the fact that he was terrified. His heart pounded, his body trembled, and he began to breathe faster the second Knives started to walk away, for he knew it wasn't over so easily. At the right side of the room was a table with various tools and instruments laid out on it. It was a collection gathered from the many raids they'd done. Deciding on the first punishment, Knives grasped the handle of a long black whip, moved behind his brother, and wasted no time in dealing the damage.

The first strike caught Vash entirely by surprise, making him cry out loudly from both alarm and pain. He didn't have time to make an objection to the unjust abuse before another hit. Repeatedly, the whip collided with his back, tearing his flesh open to color his otherwise pale skin a vivid red. Each hit elicited a wounded sigh or whimper from him, which was quite arousing to Knives. The sound of his brother's torment and the instant appearance of raw wounds drove the sadistic plant to flog the gunman using his full strength. The result made it feel as if the cord was slicing through and sinking into Vash's skin like a blade cutting and stabbing him deeply. He closed his eyes tightly to block out Legato's smug, callous grin and kept a running tally in his head of how many times Knives whipped him.

After twenty-five lashes, the white-haired plant paused to survey his work and gave a noise of satisfaction.

"Legato, please unlock him," he stated as he returned the whip to the table. He went to pick up the next weapon, though stopped when another one unexpectedly caught his fancy. Settling down with it in a small chair nearby, he commanded, "Bring him over here to me."

Against his will, Vash's feet walked him to his twin, who gruffly pulled him down to rest bent over on his knee. The position alone was humiliating, and he attempted to mentally prepare himself for the even more emasculating act that was to come. Cane in hand, Knives smacked it against his bare buttocks with unbelievable force; it was shocking to Vash how painful the hit was and that the cane didn't break upon impact. Between the throbbing agony of his back and now the intense stinging from being continuously spanked, he couldn't keep the tears from escaping his eyes or the anguished squeals from filtering out of his open mouth.

"_I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," _he apologized telepathically. _"I didn't mean to do it. Please, I'm sorry." _He truly couldn't remember if he actually did or didn't warn the townspeople, yet he figured it best to confess to it to perhaps save him from more harm.

"_I appreciate you telling me the truth, but it's too late for that now. I'm very disappointed in you, Vash, that you'd lie to me like that and defy me. After all I've done for you…."_

"_I'm sorry! I'll never do it again. I swear! Please, just stop….I promise I'll never lie to you ever again."_

Seventeen hits later, Knives tossed the cane aside, immediately grabbed a pair of pliers, and firmly gripped Vash's index finger.

"Legato," he said casually. The servant nodded and kept the outlaw pinned in his current position with his unique ability.

Struggling was useless. Vash was paralyzed and watched helplessly as his brother continued with the next method of torture.

* * *

><p>Ever since Wolfwood took advantage of his friend, he'd been even more closed off and unresponsive than usual. Under his serious appearance, Livio believed he was swiftly losing his composure; a meltdown was brimming inside of him. He didn't say much and was typically silent whenever Livio tried to converse with him or offered updates on Vash's condition. It almost seemed as if he was becoming entirely disinterested in their mission and, coincidentally, saving the Humanoid Typhoon.<p>

"I heard we'll be going for December next," Livio commented offhandedly, sitting on his bunk across from Wolfwood.

"I've told Luida. She said they're prepared if that happens."

"I thought they were almost ready to strike here."

"I told her once this load is dropped off, she should plan to intercept us on the way to December in the middle of nowhere in order to protect all of the cities' plants.

"So possibly another week or two before they do anything."

"Possibly." The tone and reply revealed no indication that the prospect of Vash continuing to suffer bothered him whatsoever.

"Do you think he'll be alright until then? He's in rough shape, Nick."

Wolfwood closed his eyes, rubbed his face, and sighed. "Yeah, I know."

"What if we told him something? Just throw him a scrap of hope. Tell him there are people who still know he's alive and are trying to save him."

"We can't. For all we know, he'd go to his brother about it and then we'd all be screwed. Or he'd suddenly be a little bit more happy than usual and Knives would wonder why. Not to mention we may be giving him false hope. If we fail, then he really is sentenced to spending the rest of his life as Knives' slave. I don't want to even imagine what the damage would be if he's thinking he'll be rescued, that everything will be okay, only to have that _not _happen and have him then feel responsible for those peoples' deaths on top of dealing with Knives' hot temper and mood swings."

Livio exhaled a deep breath and slowly nodded. "Yeah, I suppose you're right….Christ, I should've just let you kill me when you had the chance. It'd be much easier than dealing with all this bullshit now, feeling sorry for him and caring about his well-being when I shouldn't give a damn either way."

Wolfwood smirked. "That's Vash the Stampede for ya. He just worms his way into your life, no matter how much you wish he didn't."

A beat passed between them as Livio studied the other man. The preacher may have begun to be more indifferent to everything, but right now, he gave the distinct impression that there was still a very endearing place in his heart for the sixty billion double-dollar man and that he still cared very much about what was happening to him.

"You never told him, did you?" Livio suddenly asked. "Save for the famous last words you had 'Wolfwood' say, you never told him that you loved him, did you?"

At last, Nicholas met his partner's gaze, and his entire expression morphed into one of regret. "No, I didn't. I even had the perfect chance to right before he went to go face off against Knives and I didn't take it. Couldn't work up the courage to say it because I didn't think he felt the same way about me. I'm as bad as a damn teenage boy."

"Well, technically you are a teenage boy; it's not our fault that stuff makes us look so god damn old."

"Fair enough."

"You shouldn't have doubted. He really loves you."

The clergyman quirked an eyebrow. "How in the world did you get onto that conversation with him?"

"I didn't. He just started babbling away like he was talking to you." Standing up to leave, he added, "He's losing it, but he's sane enough to recognize how he feels about you."

Once he was alone, the preacher fell back to stretch out on the bed, covered his face, and struggled to contain his emotions.

_He may be sane enough to think he loves me, but he'll never be Vash. That's not Vash. It doesn't matter….Why do I still love him when he's nothing like who he was? _

* * *

><p>It was exhausting, the constant back and forth between weeping hysterically for several minutes at a time, finally stopping completely for a short repose, and then repeating the process all over again. He shook involuntarily in his sedentary spot – facing the wall on his knees with his arm extended upward and held in place by a chain. He kept himself from sitting down completely to alleviate that extreme discomfort, yet he couldn't find an effective way to prevent his toes from coming into contact with the ground other than lifting and holding his calves up; it was tiring to do so for more than a few minutes, in addition to hurting his knees, and he whimpered whenever he let his legs rest down once more, causing his toes to touch the cold, hard floor.<p>

He couldn't see who now entered the room, though he could at least sense that it wasn't his twin.

"Don't….Don't do it," he pleaded feebly as the person drew nearer. "I'm….I'm so sore and….Just give me one day, please? It wouldn't be as enjoyable for you if I passed out from pain, right? I couldn't moan for you or beg you to stop or cry from shame, and I know you like that, so…." His breathing became erratic as tears descended his cheeks. "Not now….please not right now….Please leave me alone…."

While Vash had been speaking, Livio had been silently observing the fresh signs of brutality committed against him. The gashes on his back had ceased to bleed, but no one had bothered tending to them yet, judging by the fact his skin was still stained red. Below his waist, his buttocks was heavily bruised and striped with thin, bloodied lacerations from where the cane had split the skin open.

_Jesus Christ, _Livio thought to himself. _No wonder he's begging._

His eyes traveled upward to the gunman's bound wrist, and he winced slightly at spotting the absence of all five of his fingernails. In their place there appeared to be gobs of dried candle wax. When Vash raised his calves to get his feet off of the floor, Livio noticed the same treatment had be done to his toenails.

"Who did all of this to you, Vash?"

At the sound of the man's voice, the plant became a little less tense. "It was my fault," he confessed miserably. "I did something wrong. He had to."

Livio didn't have to ask who "he" was. "Right…." He moved to sit beside him and saw just how exceptionally drained he was, both physically and mentally. "You should try and sleep."

Vash shook his head. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"He told me I couldn't. I don't want to disobey him. I don't want to make him mad at me again."

The words were like that of a scared child talking about a strict parent. It seemed quite apparent that Knives was successful in his plans to get his brother to sincerely fear and obey him, as well as continuing to love him unconditionally regardless of everything he'd put him through. "When's the last time you slept?"

"I can't remember."

"You need to. I'll stay here and make sure he doesn't come, alright? That way, he can't be mad at you because I'll wake you up before he gets here."

The blonde turned his head to gaze at him hopefully. "You will?"

"Yes."

An exceptionally grateful smile quirked the outlaw's lips. "Thank you."

At the sparkle of appreciation in the otherwise defeated green eyes, Livio decided to be even bolder with his generosity by freeing Vash's wrist from its restraint to allow him to get more comfortable.

"Lay down," he coaxed, extending his own legs out in front of him and patting his thighs.

The Humanoid Typhoon eagerly took the invite, curled up on his side, and rested his head in the man's lap. Delicately, he put his hand outstretched on the floor in front of him and kept his feet a safe distance apart from one another to ensure his toes wouldn't be rubbing against anything.

"What if he finds us like this?" he suddenly questioned fretfully.

"Don't worry. I'll handle it."

Closing his eyes, he sighed, snuggled closer, and whispered, "Thank you, Livio."

"You're welcome, Vash."

The security he felt by having Livio with him granted him the chance to relax and fall asleep in little time.

* * *

><p>Even though he actually was somewhat afraid of Knives, Livio was more afraid of what the super-powerful plant would do to the defenseless outlaw if he walked in on them like this. It was why he was extremely on edge while he watched over the sleeping gunman. Every noise he heard made his hand instinctively move to the pistol strapped to his thigh. He'd truly turned traitor. The person he was supposed to put through Hell currently lay nestled against him, while the other he'd pledged his allegiance to long ago was now the one he wouldn't hesitate to eliminate if it meant protecting Vash.<p>

The blonde began to whine softly, and when Livio glanced down to check on him, puzzlement and awe washed over his countenance. Patches of small white and crystalline feathers adorned the plant's neck and arm.

"Pretty, aren't they?"

Livio's head snapped up, and he was glad to find Nicholas shuffling towards them.

"Yeah, they're beautiful. Where do they come from?"

"I have no idea. I've only had a glimpse of them when he's troubled by something or just completely loses his composure. Maybe they're random."

"Mm. I sometimes forget he's not like us. It's easy to remember Knives isn't human. He makes that abundantly clear by his objectives and his words stating his race is superior….They really are something else though, aren't they? Plants, I mean. They're so exquisite."

"They are. I'd never really thought about them or had ever even seen one of them until he lost control one day. It was breathtaking, but….I almost thought he was a demon after that," he chuckled.

"I can imagine that's exactly what Knives wishes he'd become….Speaking of our Master, have you seen him around lately?"

"No, I haven't."

"Good. Trying to help him get some shut eye while he can."

Regardless of the preacher's silence, Livio detected something was bothering him, and it wasn't anything having to do with Vash's current physical state. It had everything to do with the fact that Vash seemed to be clinging to, and comforted by, Livio instead of him.

"Do you want to stay here for a bit?" the former Gung-Ho Gun inquired upon sensing this fact. "I can go elsewhere."

Nicholas withdrew his lighter from his vest pocket, fiddled with it for a moment, and then put it back as if deciding against doing something more with it. "It looks like you have this under control. I'll leave you two alone."

"Nick-"

There was more Livio was going to say, but he stopped from not wanting to raise his voice and possibly wake up Vash; plus, Wolfwood was already on his way to the door.

"He's an idiot," he mumbled.

The glint of something sparkling caught his eye, and he returned his attention to the Humanoid Typhoon. More feathers had sprouted at the nape of his neck, along with on the top of his hand. Without warning, his eyes shot open, and his voice wavered from panic as he said, "He's here. He's coming."

"Hey hey, easy. Your brother? How do you know?"

Vash sat up, highly attentive. "He's close. You have to go."

Understanding the gravity in his tone, Livio got to his feet not a moment too soon, for Knives entered the room and smiled at the sight of Livio and then at his twin cowering on the floor, unable to even look at him.

"I didn't interrupt anything, did I?" he questioned smugly.

"No, no. I was having him tend to some needs for me. He just finished."

"Ah, I see. He's quite good, isn't he?"

"Very."

"Mind if I take him with me to get cleaned up?"

"Not at all."

"Vash, come."

The blonde didn't move.

"Would you like me to spank you again?"

At that threat, the younger plant cautiously stood up and advanced toward his twin. The metal collar with leash that he'd grown accustomed to in the past was clasped around his neck, and as he strayed after his brother without a word, he briefly glanced behind him to Livio with a tiny smile on his mouth and fondness glimmering in his green eyes.

"Good luck, Vash," Livio murmured almost inaudibly.

* * *

><p><em>You don't love him anymore.<em>

Wolfwood repeated the words over and over again in his head. He'd been telling himself that for awhile now, hoping to believe it eventually. He thought he'd been somewhat successful – that was until he saw Vash sleeping all snuggled up against Livio. Jealousy, mild anger, and disappointment had flared up within him at the sight, which was a good indication that he wasn't at all over Vash.

_You don't love him anymore. He's not the same person. That's not Vash. That's just an unfortunate victim, a scared, beaten puppy who's too dumb to realize who the enemy is. Too weak and blind to believe his brother is the one who's behind his suffering. He's such an idiot to think Knives loves him and to still love Knives. Vash the Stampede is dead. Whoever that is in there, I feel sorry for him. I do. Sure, we can try and save him when all this finally goes down. But that's not Vash. Livio can do whatever the hell he wants with him. He likes him better than me anyway. _

It was nearly convincing. As he lit another cigarette and proceeded to smoke it, he stared at the black cross etched onto the lighter and got lost in his thoughts once more.

_ You can't just turn your back on him like that. He's counting on you, just like old times. Be the one to put him back together, not the one to ignore the broken pieces on the floor. What kind of friend and priest are you? Get it together, Wolfwood. Why are you so mad at him?_

_Because Vash would never be this submissive! He's a fighter! Why is he just letting everyone use him?! He just takes it and does nothing to stop them! Does he secretly like it?! _

_ Is that what you really think? You really think that's a possibility, that he enjoys being treated like shit?_

"I don't know," he whispered aloud.

…_.I hope this shows him that some people deserve to be killed….It's his own fault he's in the position he is!_

_ So he deserves to be raped and tortured? _

"Of course not!"

…_.I think I underestimate Knives. He's a genius at the art of manipulation. Has he manipulated me?_

_I hate looking at him. I hate how pathetic and pitiful he is. I hate the way he begs. I hate him…._

He threw the lighter at the wall, crushed his cigarette on the floor, grabbed fistfuls of his hair, and yelled in frustration.

_I can't love him anymore! That's not the same person I traveled with for so long and spent so much time with. That's not the person I made love to. He'll never be that person. He can't be. Doesn't matter if he lives or dies because Vash the Stampede is already dead….Spikey….you're gone. It doesn't matter what happens. You're gone. I don't love him._

If he could just repeat those words over and over again, maybe one of these times he'd actually come to believe it.


End file.
